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THE 

REFUGE, 


BY 


THE  AUTHOR  OF 


THE  GUIDE  TO  DOMESTICK  HAPPINESS. 


\Vhen  boist*rous  winds  and  stormy  billows  roar> 
Disturb  the  deep,  and  rend  the  rocky  shore. 
The  t'oaming  seas  in  sWellingmountains  rise, 
Forsake  their  caverns,  and  attempt  the  skies : 
Ere  long  succeeds  the  placid  calm  serene. 
And  stops  the  progress  of  the  frightful  scene : 
The  rolling  waves  in  gentle  currents  gli' e, 
Aud  softly  murmur  d(  wn  the  ebbing  tide. 


FIRST  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


PHILADELPHIA  ; 

AT  THE  LORENZO  PRESS, 
PRINTED  FORBRONSON  &CHAUNCEY. 


1804- 


^.6>0'7Sr-f^^^ 


XC8 

9231 


PREFACE. 


Id'o^t 


^jThE  love  of  hafipincBfi  is  a  passion  predominant  in 
the  human  breast ^  and  for  the  enjoyment  of  which  in* 
dividuals  of  every  description  are  anxiously  concerned* 

To  say  in  what  this  happiness  consists^  ®r  honv  it 
may  certainly  be  had^  is  an  invidious  task :  because 
men  of  different  tastes^  dispositions^  and  capacities^ 
not  only  view  the  subject  in  different  lights^  but  adopt 
oppLosite  means  to  obtain  it.  There  can^  however.^  it 
is  presumed^  be  little  risk  ef  censure  to  him  who 
shall  assert  J  That  whatever  has  a  natural  tendency  to 
irradiate  the  mind^  to  regulate  the  affections^  and  to 
meliorate  the  conduct^  must  be  friendly  to  happiness. 

Such  is  the  wisdom^  and  such  the  goodness  of  the 
great  Pareni  of  the  universe^  that  he  has  provided 
sources  of  pleasure  exactly  suited  to  the  compound 
nature  of  man.  But  it  is  the  indelible  opprobrium  of 
our  species^  that  those  enjoyments  nvhich  are  merely 
sensual^  and  of  which^  in  subserviency  to  higher  endsy 
we  might  lawfully  partake^  engross  too  frequently  the 
whole  of  our  attentio7i  ;  while  those  of  a  refined  and 


IV  PREFACE. 

exquisite  nature^  and  in  which  felicity  might  be  more 
reasonably  €Xp,ected^  are  entirely  neglected  or  forgot- 
ten. This  is  the  effect  of  a  vitiated  taste  which  has 
firecifiitated  thousands  into  inextricable  difficulties^ 
and  into  which  it  had  nearly  hurried  my  fair  corres- 
pondent^ of  whom  some  account  will  be  found  in  the 
following  Introduction^  and  to  whom  the  Letters  sub- 
joined are  addressed. 

To  him  who  is  conscious  of  danger  and  anxious  for 
helfi^  deliverance  must  be  accefitable.  This  was  once 
the  situation  of  the  amiable  Lavinia,  Her  imfiortu- 
nate  entreaties  could  not  be  heard  with  indifference — 
she  was  directed  to  the  Refuge  where  protection  ivas 
known  to  be  certain  ;  and  where  she  not  only  found 
security^  but  the  rest  and  the  happiness  she  wanted. 

To  this  impression  of  the  Befuge^  some  additions 
have  been  made,  which^  though  not  extensive^  may 
perhafis  be  thought  da^erving  of  regard.  The  ivhole 
work  has  indeed  been  attentively  examined  ;  and^  ij 
compared  with  the  former  edition^  will  be  founds  in 
many  places^  to  have  undergone  alterations  intended 
to  give  precision  to  thought^  and  energy  to  truth. 
The  author  is^  however^  far  from  imagining  that  the 
labour  of  revision  will  preclude  the  use  of  criticism. 
Perfection  is   not   attainable    by  man.     But  if  what 


PREFACE.  V 

has  been  donc^  shall  have  any  tendency  to  promote 
purity  of  sentiment^  or  rectitude  of  conduct :  to  hO' 
nour  the  gospel  of  God^  or  to  facilitate  the  happdness 
of  man^  the  time  devoted  to  this  purpose  will  not  have 
been  spent  in  vain. 


A  2 


INTRODUCTION. 


vJ  Fall  the  passions  that  agitate  the  human  mind, 
there  is  perhaps  no  one  more  grateful  in  itself, 
or  more  useful  to  man,  than  sympathy. 

Virtue  in  distress  is  sure  to  attract  notice  and 
excite  commiseration.  The  sufferings  of  others, 
it  is  true,  cannot  be  witnessed  without  painful 
emotions ;  but  these  emotions  we  neither  wish 
to  suppress,  nor  attempt  to  diminish  :  for  such  is 
the  wonderful  construction  of  our  nature,  and 
such  the  delightful  tendency  of  this  passion,  that 
instead  of  endeavouring  to  avoid,  we  take  plea- 
sure in  approaching  the  object  of  misery.  The 
car  is  open  to  the  cry  of  calamity  ;  the  tale  of  woe 
is  heard  with  melting  tenderness  ;  we  instantly 
participate  the  grief;  we  mingle  sigh  with  sigh, 
tear  with  tear,  and  wish,  anxiously  wish,  toalle- 


2  INTRODUCTION, 

viate,  if  we  cannot  remove,  the  cause  of  inqui- 
etude. 

*►  To  sympathy  we  are  indebted  for  a  thousand 
endearments  in  social  life :  it  is  the  bond  of  soci- 
ety :  we  feel  ourselves  interested  in  the  general 
good ;  we  experience  more  pleasure  in  commu- 

jiicating  than  in  receiving  the  means  of  happi- 
ness ;  and  in  contemplating  its  benign  influence, 
perceive  both  the  propriety  and  the  excellency 
of  that  divine  aphorism — It  is  more  blessed  to 
give  than  to  receive. 

But  though  such  be  the  general  tendency  of 
this  benevolent  affection,  there  are  objects  of 
wretchedness,  on  which  the  world  has  no  com- 
passion to  bestow.  Men  whose  consciences  are 
burdened  with  guilt,  and  harassed  with  painful 
apprehensions  respecting  futurity,  seldom  meet 
with  sympathetick  tenderness.  But  how  are  we 
to  account  for  the  dereliction  of  human  nature  in 
this  case  ?  Is  not  the  anguish  arising  from  a  con- 
sciousness of  moral  turpitude  equally  pungent 
with  that  which  the  loss  of  terrestrial  comforts 
may  incidentally  occasion  ?   Surely  the  cause  of 


INTRODUCTION.  O 

sorrow  in  the  former  as  far  exceeds  the  latter,  as 
the  perpetual  favour  of  Heaven  transcends  the  mo- 
mentary calamities  of  life ! — ^  The  spirit  of  a 
man  will  sustain  his  infirmity,  but  a  wounded 
spirit  who  can  bear  V 

It  may  be  said  in  answer  to  this  inquiry,  that 
pain  of  conscience  has  relation  to  guilt,  and  is 
the  eifect  of  sin  operating  against  a  known  rule 
prescribed  for  the  regulation  of  moral  conduct. 
In  order,  therefore,  to  sympathize  with  the  con- 
trite sufferer,  we  must  have  the  same  ideas 
respecting  the  equity  of  God^s  government,  the 
detestable  nature  of  sin,  and  the  justice  of  that 
punishment  with  which  it  is  connected.  But 
natural  men  see  things  in  a  very  different  light. 
Their  consciences  are  not  under  the  authority  of 
the  law  of  God  ;  no  beauty  is  beheld  in  the 
divine  precepts;  nor  do  they,  it  is  to  be  feared, 
really  believe  that  the  commission  of  moral  evil 
will  be  attended  v/ith  those  dreadful  conse- 
quences which  the  scriptures  constantly  affirm. 
It  is,  therefore,  impossible,  in  the  very  nature  of 
the  case,  that  men  with  such  ideas  should  feel  for 
a  soul  tortured  with  guilt :  the  distress  endured 


4  INTRODUCTION. 

will  be  considered  rather  as  chimerical  than  real, 
or  at  least  as  the  effect  of  superstitious  credulity, 
and  as  deserving  raillery  more  than  commisse- 

ration,  or  severe  rebuke  than  serious  expostula- 
tion. 

That  men  frequently  act  on  this  principle,  in 
giving  advice  to  persons  under  religious  impres- 
sions, needs  no  proof.  What  more  common  than 
to  hear  the  disconsolate  mourner  exhorted  to 
shun  the  haunts  of  solitude,  to  rouse  from  the 
torpor  of  dejection,  to  frequent  the  resorts  of 
diversion,  to  look  for  tranquillity  ana  pleasure 
in  the  circles  of  gaiety,  where  every  eye  sparkles 
with  joy ,  where  the  ear  is  charmed  with  sprightly 
sallies  of  wit;  where  novelty  gives  perpetual 
delight;  and  the  mind,  released  from  the  gloom 
of  reflection,  is  restored  to  freedom  and  to  hap- 
piness ? 

But  these  prescriptions  are  not  adapted  to  the 
malady.  They  have  been  frequently  adminis- 
tered, but  without  success.  The  throbs  of  guilt 
are  not  to  be  lulled  by  the  sound  of  the  tabret 
and  the  pipe,  the  harp  or  the  viol ;  and  the  de- 


INTRODUCTION.  5 

luded  patient  who  shall  try  the  experiment,  will 
find  that  he  has  not  expelled,  but  increased  his 
complaint ;  and  the  symptoms  may  perhaps  be 
so  rapid  and  so  alarming,  as  to  generate  despair 
of  relief  instead  of  exciting  hope  of  deliverance. 
For  what  is  the  natural  tendency  of  such  admo- 
nitions ?  Is  it  not  saying,  in  effect.  Be  familiar 
with  vice,  or  at  least  with  vanity ;  blunt  the  edge 
of  remorse  by  the  accession  of  fresh  guilt ;  hope 
for  quiet  in  the  midst  of  tumult ;  and  drown  the 
clamours  of  conscience  in  obstreperous  merri- 
ment ! 

Lavinia  was  the  daughter  of  one  of  the  first 
families  in  London.  Her  parents  dying  when 
she  was  young,  left  her  to  the  care  of  an  aunt, 
whose  fortune  she  was  to  inherit,  and  who  felt 
herself  deeply  interestedinhavingher  successour 
instructed  in  all  the  useful  and  polite  accomplish- 
ments that  endear  society  and  embelish  life.  At 
an  early  period,  Lavinia  gave  ample  proof  that 
the  expectations  formed  of  her  capacity  and  her 
attainments  were  not  likely  to  be  disappointed  : 
for  she  made  such  rapid  progress  in  all  the 
branches  of  female  education,  as  rendered  her 
the  pattern  of  all  who  aspired  to  excellence. 


6  INTRODUCTION. 

The  guardian  of  our  young  pupil,  who  was  a 
woman  of  the  first  rank  and  fashion,  could  not 
long  defer  the  happiness  she  expected  to  parti- 
cipate, when  the  wondering  world  should  first 
witness  the  charms  that  were  never  beheld  by  her 
but  with  maternal  fondness.  Laviuia,  who  was 
elegant  in  her  form,  and  graceful  in  her  manners, 
was,  therefore,  introduced  early  into  all  the  polite 
circles,  and  received  with  the  most  flattering- 
tokens  of  admiration.  Every  eye  was  struck 
with  her  beauty,  and  every  tongue  lavish  in  her 
praise.  Nor  was  the  marked  attention  paid  her 
in  all  companies  ungratefully  received  :  for  who 
can  be  deaf  to  the  voice  of  praise  ?  or  unwilling 
to  belie v^e  that  it  may  be  heard  without  vanity, 
and  received  as  a  just  tribute  to  excellence, 
which,  if  hidden  to  ourselves  and  the  vulgar, 
others,  possessed  of  keen  discernment,  refined 
taste,  and  impartial  judgment,  have  not  only 
discovered, but  kindly  endeavoured  to  appretiate? 

Few  were  the  resorts  of  pleasure  at  which 
Lavinia  was  not  the  rival  of  her  sex.  She  was 
surrounded  by  men  of  the  first  rank,  each 
ambitious  to    attract  her   notice,    and  to   bow 


INTRODUCTION,  7 

obsequious  to  her  will.  The  sprightly  sallies  of 
her  wit  were  heard  with  rapture ;  her  fascinating 
demeanour  captivated  every  heart ;  and  she 
received,  on  every  hand,  those  tokens  of  respect, 
a  moderate  share  of  which  would  have  trans- 
ported the  hearts  of  thousands. 

'  A  solitary  philosopher  would  imagine  ladies 
born  with  an  exemption  from  care  and  sorrow, 
lulled  in  perpetual  quiet,  and  feasted  with  un« 
mingled  pleasure  y  for  what  can  interrupt  the 
content  of  those,  upon  whom  one  age  has  la- 
boured after  another  to  confer  honours,  and 
accumulate  immunities ;  those  to  whom  rudeness 
is  infamy,  and  insult  is  cowardice ;  whose  eye 
commands  the  brave,  and  whose  smiles  soften 
the  severe  j  whom  the  sailor  travels  to  adoin, 
the  soldier  bleeds  to  defend,  and  the  poet  wears 
Out  life  to  celebrate  ;  who  claim  tribute  from 
every  art  and  science,  and  for  whom  all  who 
approach  them  endeavour  to  multiply  delights, 
without  requiring  from  them  any  return  but 
willingness  to  be  pleased  ? 


8  INTRODUCTION. 

*  Surely,  among  these  favourites  of  nature,  thus 
unacquainted  with  toil  and  danger,  felicity  must 
have  fixed  her  residence;  they  must  know  only 
the  changes  of  more  vivid  or  more  gentle  joys; 
their  life  must  always  move  either  to  the  slow  or 
sprightly  melody  of  the  lyre  of  gladness ;  they 
can  never  assemble  but  to  pleasure,  nor  retire 
but  to  peace. 

'  Such  would  be  the  thoughts  of  every  man 
who  should  hover  at  a  distance  round  the  world, 
and  know  it  only  by  conjecture  and  speculation. 
But  experience  will  soon  discover  how  easily 
those  are  disgusted  who  have  been  made  nice  by 
plenty,  and  tender  by  indulgence.  He  will  soon 
see  to  how  many  dangers  power  is  exposed  which 
has  no  other  guard  than  youth  and  beauty,  and 
how  easily  that  tranquillity  is  molested  which 
can  only  be  soothed  with  the  songs  of  flattery. 
It  is  impossible  to  supply  wants  as  fast  as  an  idle 
imagination  may  be  able  to  form  them,  or  to 
remove  all  inconveniencies  by  which  elegance, 
refined  into  impatience,  may  be  offended.  None 
are  so  hard  to  please  as  those  whom  satiety  of 
pleasure  makes  weary  of  tliemselves;  nor  any  so 


INTRODUCTION. 


readily  provoked  as  those  who  have  been  always 
courted  with  an  emulation  of  civility.' 

In  the  midst  of  affluence  and  splendour,  of 
pleasure  and  of  praise,  Lavinia  still  found  that 
happiness  was  absent.  The  hour  of  solitude  could 
not  be  endured  without  painful  anxiety.  Some- 
thing seemed  to  be  wanting  which  the  world, 
with  all  its  complaisance,  had  not  yet  conferred. 
New  expedients  were  therefore  daily  invented  to 
tranquillize  the  mind,  and  no  means  left  untried 
to  regain  her  wonted  vivacity.  But,  alas  !  the 
felicity  of  which  Lavinia  was  in  pursuit,  still 
eluded  her  eager  grasp.  Every  clay  witnessed 
new  scenes  of  vexation  and  disappointment.  The 
wakeful  hours  of  night  were  spent  in  tracing  the 
causes  of  miscarriage  ;  in  contriving  means  by 
which  to  preclude  a  recurrence  of  the  same,  or 
similar  impediments;  and  in  planning  schemes  to 
ensure  felicity  on  the  morrow.  Inauspicious  was 
the  morning  in  which  the  breast  of  Lavinia  was 
not  transported  with  the  recollection  of  some  new 
engagement  to  give  delight,  of  something  nov^el 
to  be  seen ;  with  the  hope  of  sparkling  in  the 
dance,  of  shining   at   the    opera   or   the  play- 


JO  INTRODUCTION. 

house,  of  making  new  conquests,  and  of  receiv- 
ing fresh  tokens  of  inviolable  attachment  and 
reverence. 

The  return  of  night,  however,  but  renewed  dis- 
gust. Every  amusement  was  insipid:  the  charms 
of  novelty  were  forgotten :  emptiness  and  vanity 
were  stamped  on  every  enjoyment :  for  whether 
at  the  toilet,  the  ball,  the  theatre,  or  the  masque- 
rade. Conscience  would  be  heard — '  Lovers  of 
pleasure  more  than  lovers  of  God,'  was  reiterated 
in  every  place,  and  in  accents  so  distinct,  that 
the  meaning  could  not  be  mistaken.  Fruitless, 
were  all  attempts  to  shun  the  admonitory  intel- 
ligence, or  to  blunt  the  pain  it  frequently 
occasioned.  Reflection  produced  remorse;  the 
pleasures  of  the  world,  satiety  and  aversion;  the 
retrospect  of  life,  the  keenest  anguish,  and  the 
prospects  of  futurity,  the  horrours  of  despair. 

The  thoughtless  and  the  gay  may,  perhaps, 
think  that  the  views  of  Laviniawere  enthusiastick 
or  chimerical.  But  there  is  no  ground  for  the 
conclusion.  For  what  is  the  life  of  avast  majo- 
rity of  the  great,  but  a  scene  of  voluptuousness 


INTRODUCTION.  11 

and  dissipation;  of  vanity  and  extravagance? 
The  affairs  of  another  world,  and  the  moral  state 
of  the  human  heart,  are  considerations  that  sel- 
dom obstruct  their  pursuits  or  interrupt  their 
quiet.  I  ask,  and  appeal  to  the  experience  and 
the  consciences  of  those  whom  Providence  has 
elevated  to  opulence  and  splendour,  whether, 
from  the  moment  of  introduction  into  publick 
life,  the  time  allotted  by  HeaVen  for  acts  of  bene- 
ficence and  virtue,  is  not  generally  spent  in  con- 
formity to  the  fashions  of  the  day  |  in  attendance 
at  routs,  and  balls,  and  card  tables;  in  frequent- 
ing the  opera  and  the  playhouse,  or  in  ceremo- 
nious visits  paid  and  received  frequently,  Vfith- 
out  pleasure  and  without  friendship. 

But  are  these  pursuits  worthy  of  an  immortal 
mind^  Is  this  a  life  on  v/hich  a  rational  being 
can  seriously  reflect  without  the  terrours  of  dis- 
may?— ^yetthis  is  the  life  of  thousands — a  life  in 
which  are  to  be  found  no  traces  of  that  purity  and 
perfection  once  connatural  to  man  ;  no  evidence 
of  compunction  for  the  violation  of  divine 
precepts,  nor  yet  of  thankfulness  for  the  means 
by  which  guilt  is  expiated,  and  the  trembling 
B  2 


12  INTRODUCTION. 

delinquent  rescued  from  perdition.  Nay^  there 
are  not  only  those  who,  like  Gallio,  care  for  none 
of  these  things,  but  some  that  openly  discard 
them;  who,  though  their  sins  be  as  scarlet,  '  cavil 
at  the  means  by  which  they  might  be  made  white 
lis  snow ;  and  though  their  iniquities  have  been 
multiplied  without  number,  revile  the  hand  which 
alone  can  blot  them  from  the  register  of  Heaven.' 
These  are  they  that  awake  but  to  eat  and  to 
drink;  to  gratify  the  lust  of  the  flesh,  the  lust  of 
the  eye,  and  the  pride  of  life.  God  is  not  in  all 
their  thoughts  :  his  ways  are  always  grievous  ; 
and  through  the  pride  of  their  countenance  they 
will  not  seek  after  him. 

Surely  *  it  is  unworthy  of  a  reasonable  being 
to  spend  any  of  the  little  time  allotted  us,  with- 
out some  tendenicy,  either  direct  or  oblique,  to 
the  end  of  our  existence.  And  though  every 
moment  cannot  be  laid  out  on  the  formal  and 
regular  improvement  of  our  knowledge,  or  In  the 
stated  practice  of  a  moral  or  religious  duty,  yet 
none  should  be  so  spent  as  to  exclude  wisdom 
or  virtue,  or  pass  without  possibility  of  qualify- 
ing us  more  or  less  for  the  better>mployment 
of  thoGC  which  are  to  come. 


INTRODUCTION.  13 

*  It  is  scarcely  possible  to  pass  an  hour  in 
honest  conversation,  without  being  able,  when 
we  rise  from  it,  to  please  ourselves  with  having 
given  or  received  some  advantage  :  but  a  man 
may  shuffle  cards,  or  rattle  dice,  from  noon  to 
midnight,  without  tracing  any  new  idea  in  his 
mind,  or  being  able  to  recollect  the  day  by  any 
other  token  than  his  gain  or  his  loss,  and  a  con- 
fused remembrance  of  agitated  passions,  and 
clamorous  altercations.' 

The  beneficent  Author  of  our  existence  has,, 
for  the  best  of  purposes,  graciously  interwoven 
in  our  nature  an  insatiable  thirst  after  happiness. 
In  puYsuit  of  this  happiness  all  descriptions  of 
men  are  anxiously  engaged;  and  were  we  to  act 
consistently  with  our  high  origin,  we  should  seic 
both  the  wisdom  and  the  goodness  of  God,  not 
only  in  the  implantation  of  this  ever  active  prin- 
ciple, but  m  the  frustration  of  every  hope  that 
centres  in  terrestrial  enjoyment. 

<  For  not  in  vain,  but  for  the  noblest  end, 
Heaven  bids  a  constant  sigh  for  bliss  ascend ; 
'Tis  love  divine  that  moves  th'  inviting  priz« 
Before,  and  still  before  us,  to  the  skies  ; 
Led  by  our  foible  forward  till  we  know, 
The  grod  wliich  satisfies  is  nst  belov/.' 


14  INTRODUCTION. 

But  ever  since  the  introduction  of  moral  evil 
into  the  world,  men  have  changed  the  object  of 
happiness.  They  have  forsaken  the  Lord,  the 
fountain  of  living  waters,  and  have  loved  and 
served  the  creature  instead  of  the  Creator.  The 
cry  of  all  is,  indeed,  Who  will  shew  us  any  good? 
but  it  is  a  good  which,  if  not  suited  merely 
to  the  animal  nature,  is  always  confined  to  the 
present  life,  and  which,  when  enjoyed,  is  ever 
found  inadequate  both  to  our  desires  and  our 
expectations.  The  truth  is,  we  form  a  wrong 
estimate  of  this  good,  and  expect  from  fruition 
that  which  it  was  never  designed  to  commu- 
nicate :  so  that  by  raising  our  hopes  too  high,  we 
lose  the  pleasure  which  might  be  lawfully  in- 
dulged, and  then  complain  of  disappointment 
and  vexation,  without  considering  that  the  fault 
lay,  not  in  the  object  itself,  but  in  the  unwar- 
rantable expectations  it  was  intended  to  gratify. 
But,  though  perpetually  foiled  on  every  hand, 

Yet  still  for  this  we  pant,  on  this  we  trust, 
And  dream  of  happiness  allied  to  dust. 

Nothing  can  quench  our  thirst  for  earthly  good, 
nor  damp  the  ardour  of  pursuit.     No  suspicion 


INTRODUCTION*  15 

is  entertained  that  the  means  and  the  end  are  at 
variance.  Miscarriage  is  not  ascribed  to  the  real, 
but  to  other  causes.  Happiness,  though  distant, 
is  still  thought  attainable  ;  we  therefore  change 
the  scene,  contemplate  other  objects,  equally 
vain,  with  fresh  rapture  ;  resume  the  chase  with 
redoubled  vigour,  pant  with  ardour  for  the  mo- 
ment of  possession,  and  if  divine  goodness  do 
not  interpose,  go  on  from  stage  to  stage,  till  death 
puts  an  end  to  the  career  of  hope,  the  sinner 
awakes  from  his  delirium,  looks  round  with 
horrour  and  expires  ! — For 

<  Let  changing  life  be  varied  as  it  will, 
This  weakness  still  attends,  affects  us  still. 
Displeas'd  for  ever  with  cur  present  lot, 
This  we  possess,  as  we  possess'd  it  not : 
Put  earth's  whole  globe  in  wild  ambition's  power, 
O'er  one  poor  world  she'd  weep,  and  wish  for  more. 
To  birth  add  fortune,  add  to  fortune — fame, 
Give  the  desiring  soul  its  utmost  claim  ; 
The  wish  recHrs — some  object  unpossess'd 
Corrodes,  distastes,  and  leavens  all  the  rest ; 
And  still  to  death  from  being's  earliest  ray, 
Th'  unknown  tomorrow  cheats  us  of  today. 

'  If  any  one  of  my  readers  has  looked  with  so 
little  attention  on  the  world  about  him,  as  to  ima- 
gine this  representation  exaggerated  beyond  pro- 


16  INTRODUCTION. 

bability,  let  him  reflect  a  little  upon  his  own  life; 
let  him  consider  what  were  his  hopes  and  pros- 
pects ten  years  ago,  and  what  additions  he  then 
expected  to  be  made  by  ten  years  to  his  happi- 
ness :  those  years  are  now  elapsed :  have  they 
made  good  the  promise  that  was  extorted  from 
them,  have  they  advanced  his  fortune,  enlarged 
his  knowledge,  or  reformed  his  conduct,  to  the 
degree  that  was  once  expected?  I  am  afraid, 
every  man  that  recollects  his  hopes  must  confess 

his  disappointment;  and  own,  that  day  has  glided 
unprofitably  after  day,  and  that  he  is  still  at  the 

same  distance  from  the  point  of  happiness. 

*  Such  is  the  general  dream  in  which  we  all 
slumber  out  our  time  :  every  man  thinks  the  day 
coming,  in  which  he  shall  be  gratified  with  all  his 
wishes,  in  which  he  shall  leave  all  those  compe- 
titors behind,  who  are  now  rejoicing  like  himself 
in  the  expectation  of  victory  ;  the  day  is  always 
coming  to  the  servile  in  which  they  shall  be  pow- 
erful, to  the  obscure  in  which  they  shall  be  emi- 
nent, and  to  the  deformed  in  which  they  shall 
be  beautiful.' 


INTRODUCTION.  17 

In  the  vigour  of  youth  and  in  the  bloom  of 
beauty^  surrounded  by  all  that  can  flatter  hope, 
or  stimulate  to  action,  Lavinia  entered  the  ave- 
nues of  sublunary  pleasure  in  quest  of  happiness ; 
but  the  lovely  enchantress  was  not  to  be  found  in 
the  regions  of  terrestrial  delight.  All  the  sources 
of  felicity  were  explored  in  vain  :  emptiness  was 
stamped  on  every  enjoyment.  Our  young  vota- 
ress soon  discovered  that  her  expectations  were 
fallacious  ;  that  many  of  her  pursuits  were  not 
only  trifling  but  crimanal.  A  conviction  of  guilt 
filled  her  breast  with  tumult:  terrifying  appre- 
hensions agitated  her  soul:  she  beheld  with  asto- 
nishment the  precipice  on  which  she  stood,  the 
imminent  danger  with  which  she  was  surrounded 
— that  there  was  but  a  step  between  her  and 
everlasting  ruin :  and  trembling'  on  this  preci- 
pice, she  first  uttered  that  inexpressibly  impor- 
tant query — '  V/hat  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  ?' — 
To  answer  this  inquiry  the  following  Letters 
were  first  written^ 

The  question,  let  it  be  remembered,  is  always 
proper, because  it  is  of  infinite  importance.  Sure- 
ly it  cannot  be  imagined  that  the  present  world 


18  INTRODUCTION* 

is  the  only  residence  of  man !  and  if  he  be  to 
exist  in  a  state  yet  future,  it  is  highly  rational  to 
inquire,  whether  that  existence  will  be  miserable 
or  happy.  Men  in  general  are,  indeed,  too  much 
engaged  in  sublunary  pursuits  to  attend  to  the 
concerns  of  another  life.  But  this  will  not  always 
be  the  case.  The  period  is  approaching  in  which 
conscience,  if  not  quite  petrified,  will  be  roused 
from  her  torpor;  in  which  she  will  sound  the 
alarm,  and  the  soul,  awakened  from  sleep,  feel 
the  vanity  of  the  world  and  of  all  its  enjoyments. 
For  what  is  the  glitter  of  wealth,  the  pomp  of 
greatness,  the  voice  of  praise,  or  the  frisk  of  jol- 
lity, to  him  that  is  acquainted  with  the  depravity 
of  his  own  heart?  who  is  conscious  of  allowed  and 
reiterated  deviations  from  the  path  of  duty— of 
having  passed  the  whole  of  life  heedless  of  tiie 
counsels  ofwisdomandthe  dictates  of  conscience? 
It  is  indeed  possible  that  the  mind  may  be  di- 
verted by  the  allurements  of  pleasure  from  minute 
attention  to  the  turpitude  of  its  own  actions,  but 
the  delusion  will  not  last  for  ever :  a  man  cannot 
always  trifle :  the  hour  of  reflection  will  obtrude ; 
and  if  he  determine  not  to  anticipate,  he  must 
shortly  be  compelled  to  realize  the  period  when 


INTRODUCTION.  W 

deception  and  artifice  willbe  impracticable ;  when 
all  terrestrial  scenes  shall  be  withdrawn;  when 
the  soul,  no  longer  soothed  by  flattery  nor  seduced 
by  hope,  must  converse  with  death;  and  this  too 
in  a  moment,  perhaps,  when  the  avenues  of  mercy 
are  closed  for  ever,  and  in  which  the  affrighted 
soul  will  have  to  exclaim,  in  the  terrours  of 
despair,  '  The  harvest  is  past,  the  summer  is 
ended,  and  I  am  not  saved  !' 

*  How  shocking  must  thy  summons  be,  O  Death  ', 
To  him  that  is  at  ease  in  his  possessions, 
Who,  counting  on  long  years  of  pleasure  here, 
Is  quite  unfurnish'd  for  that  world  to  come  I 
In  that  dread  moment,  how  Jhe  frantick  soul 
Raves  round  the  wall  of  her  clay  tenement, 
Runs  to  each  avenue,  and  shrieks  for  help, 
But  shrieks  in  vain  !  how  wishfully  she  looks 
On  all  she's  leaving,  now  no  longer  her's  I 
A  little  longer,  yet  a  little  longer, 
O  might  she  stay  to  wash  away  her  stains. 
And  fit  her  for  her  passage  1  mournful  sight ! 
Her  very  eyes  weep  blood ;  and  ev'ry  groan 
She  heaves  is  big  with  horrour :  but  the  foe, 
Like  a  stanch  murd'rer,  steady  to  his  purpose, 
Pursues  her  dose  through  every  lane  of  life, 
Nor  misses  once  the  track,  but  presses  on ;     , 
Till  forcM  at  last  to  the  tremendous  verge, 
At  once  she  zlnks  to  cverlasthig  ruin.' 


20  INTRODUCTION, 

The  only  conviction  that  rushes  upon  the  soul, 
and  takes  away  from  our  appetites  and  passions 
the  power  of  resistance,  '  is  to  be  found,'  says  an 
incomparable  writer, '  where  I  have  received  it,  at 
the  bed  of  a  dying  friend.  To  enter  this  school 
of  wisdom  is  not  the  peculiar  privilege  of  geome- 
tricians. The  most  sublime  and  important  precepts 
require  no  uncommon  opportunities,  nor  labori- 
ous preparations  j  they  are  enforced  without  the 
aid  of  eloquence ;  and  understood  without  skill  in 
analytick  science.  Every  tongue  can  utter  them, 
and  every  understanding  can  conceive  them.  He 
that  wishes,  in  earnest,  to  obtain  just  sentiments 
concerning  his  condiVion,  and  would  be  intimate- 
ly acquainted  with  the  world,  may  find  instruc- 
tion on  every  side.  He  that  desires  to  enter 
behind  the  scene,  which  every  art  has  been  em- 
ployed to  decorate,  and  every  passion  labours  to 
illuminate,  and  wishes  to  seelife  stripped  of  those 
ornament?  which  made  it  glitter  on  the  stage,  and 
exposed  in  its  natural  meanness,  impotence,  and 
nakedness,  may  find  all  the  delusion  laid  open  in 
the  chamber  of  disease.  He  will  there  find  vanity 
devested  of  her  robes  ;  power  deprived  of  her 
sceptre  ;  and  hypocrisy  without  her  mask. 


INTRODUCTION.  21 

*  The  friend  whom  I  have  lost  was  a  man  emi- 
nent for  genius,  and,  like  others  of  the  same  class, 
sufficiently  pleased  with  acceptance  and  applause. 
Being  caressedbythose  who  have  preferments  and 
riches  in  their  disposal,  he  considered  himself  as 
in  the  direct  road  to  advancement,  and  had  caught 
the  flame  of  ambition  by  approaches  to  its  object. 
But  in  the  midst  of  his  hopes,- his  projects,  and 
his  gaieties,  he  was  seized  by  a  lingering  disease, 
which,  from  its  first  stage,  he  knew  to  be  incu- 
rable. Here  was  an  end  of  all  his  visions  of  great- 
ness and  happiness.  From  the  first  hour  that  his 
health  declined,  all  his  former  pleasures  grew 
tasteless.  His  friends  expected  to  please  him  by 
those  accounts  of  the  growth  of  his  reputation, 
which  were  formerly  certain  of  being  well  receiv- 
ed: but  they  soon  found  how  little  he  was  now 
affected  by  compliments,  and  how  vainly  they  at- 
tempted, by  flattery,  to  exhilirate  the  languor  of 
weakness,  and  relieve  the  solicitude  of  approach- 
ing death.  Whoever  would  know  how  much  piety 
and  virtue  surpass  all  external  goods,  might  here 
have  seen  them  weighed  against  each  other : 
where  all  that  gives  motion  to  the  active,  and 
elevation  to  the  eminent;  all  that  sparkles  in  the 


22  INTRODUCTION. 

eye  of  hope,  and  pants  in  the  bosom  of  suspicion, 
at  once  became  dust  in  the  balance,  without 
weight  and  without  regard.  Riches,  authority, 
and  praise,  los^  all  their  influence  when  they  are 
considered  as  riches  which  tomorrow  shall  be  be- 
stowed upon  another:  authority  which  shall  this 
night  expire  for  ever,  and  praise  which,  howe- 
ver merited,  or  however  sincere,  shall,  after  a 
few  moments,  be  heard  no  more. 

*  In  those  hours  of  seriousness  and  wisdom, 
every  thing  that  terminated  on  this  side  of  the 
grave  was  received  with  coldness  and  indiffer- 
ence ;  and  regarded  rather  in  consequence  of  the 
habit  of  valuing  it,  than  from  any  opinion  that  it 
deserved  value.  It  had  little  more  prevalence 
over  his  mind  than  a  bubble  that  was  new  bro- 
ken, a  dream  from  which  he  was  awake.  His 
whole  powers  were  engrossed  by  the  considera- 
tion of  another  state,  and  all  conversation  was 
tedious,  that  had  not  some  tendency  to  disen- 
gage him  from  human  affairs,  and  open  his 
prospects  into  futurity. 

^  It  is  now  past:  we  have  closed  his  eyes,  and 
heard  him  breathe  the  groan  of  expiration.     At 


INTRODUCTION.  23 

the  sight  of  this  last  conflict,  I  felt  a  sensation 
never  known  to  me  before ,  a  confusion  of  pas- 
sions, an  awful  stillness  of  sorrow,  a  gloomy 
terrour  without  a  name.  The  thoughts  that 
entered  my  soul  were  too  strong  to  be  diverted, 
and  too  piercing  to  be  endured ;  but  such  violence 
cannot  be  lasting:  the  storm  subsided  in  a  short 
time.     I  wept,  retired,  and  grew  calm. 

*  I  have,  from  that  time,  frequently  revolved  in 
my  mind,  the  effects  which  the  observation  of 
death  produces  in  those  who  are  not  wholly  with- 
out the  power  and  use  of  reflection  ;  for,  by  far 
the  greater  part,  it  is  wholly  unregarded ;  their 
friends  and  their  enemies  sink  into  the  grave 
without  raising  any  uncommon  emotion,  or  re- 
minding them  that  they  are  themselves  on  the 
edge  of  the  precipice,  and  that  they  must  soon 
plunge  into  the  gulph  of  eternity- 

*  Surely,  nothing  can  so  much  disturb  the  pas- 
sions, or  perplex  the  intellects  of  man,  as  the 
disruption  of  his  union  with  visible  nature ;  a 
separation  from  all  that  has  hitherto  delighted  or 
engaged  him ;  a  change  not  only  of  the  place, 
c  2 


24  IKTRODUCTION. 

but  the  manner  of  his  being ;  an  entrance  into  a 
state,  not  simply  which  he  knows  not,  but  which, 
perhaps,  he  has  not  faculties  to  know  ;  an  imme- 
diate and  perceptible  communication  with  the 
supreme  Being,  and,  what  is  above  all  distressful 

and  alarming,  the  final  sentence,  and  unalterable 
allotment. 

'Yet  we,  to  whom  the  shortness  of  life  has  given 
frequent  occasions  of  contemplating  mortality, 
can,  without  emotion,  see  generations  of  men 
pass  away,  and  are  at  leisure  to  establish  modes 
of  sorrow,  and  adjust  the  ceremonial  of  death. 
We  can  look  upon  funeral  pomp  as  a  common 
spectacle  in  which  we  have  no  concern,  and  turn 
away  from  it  to  trifles  and  amusements,  without 
dejection  of  look,  or  inquietude  of  heart. 

'  It  is,  indeed,  apparent  from  the  constitution 
of  the  world,  that  there  must  be  a  time  for  other 
thoughts  ;  and  a  perpetual  meditation  upon  the 
last  hour,  however  it  may  become  the  solitude  of 
a  monastery,  is  inconsistent  with  many  duties  of 
common  life.  But  surely  the  remembrance  of 
death  ought  to  predominate  in  our  minds  as  an 
habitual  and  settled  principle,  always  operating 


INTRODUCTION.  55 

though  not  always  perceived  ;  and  our  attention 
should  seldom  wander  so  far  from  our  own  con- 
dition, as  not  to  be  recalled  and  fixed  by  the  sight 
of  an  event,  which  must  soon,  we  know  not  hoW 
soon,  happen  likewise  to  ourselves,  and  of  which, 
though  we  cannot  appoint  the  time,  we  may 
secure  the  consequence. 

'Every  instance  of  death  may  justly  awaken 
our  fears,  and  quicken  our  vigilance;  but  its  fre* 
quency  so  much  weakens  its  effect,  that  we  arc 
seldom  alarmed,  unless  some  close  connexion 
is  broken,  some  scheme  frustrated,  or  some 
hope  defeated.  Many,  therefore,  seem  to  pass 
on  from  youth  to  decrepitude  without  any  reflec- 
tion on  the  end  of  life,  because  they  are  wholly 
involved  within  themselves,  and  look  on  others 
only  as  inhabitants  of  the  common  earth,  without 
any  expectation  of  receiving  good,  or  intention 
of  bestowing  it. 

'  Custom  so  far  regulates  the  sentiments  of  com- 
mon minds,  that  I  believe  men  maybe  generally 
observed  to  grow  less  tender  as  they  advance 
in  age.     He  who,  when  life  was  new,  melted  at 


26  Introduction, 

the  loss  of  every  companion,  can  look  in  time, 
without  concern,  upon  the  grave  into  which  his 
last  friend  was  thrown,  and  into  which  himself 
is  ready  to  fall :  not  that  he  is  more  willing  to 
die  than  formerly,  but  that  he  is  more  familiar 
to  the  death  of  others,  and  therefore  is  not 
alarmed,  so  far  as  to  consider  how  much  nearer 
he  approaches  to  his  end.  But  this  is  to  submit 
tamely  to  th^  tyranny  of  accident,  and  to  suffer 
our  reason  to  lie  useless.  Every  funeral  may 
justly  be  considered  as  a  summons  to  prepare  us 
for  that  state,  into  which  it  shews  us  that  we 
must  sometime  enter ;  and  the  summons  is  more 
loud  and  piercing,  as  the  event  of  which  it  warns 
ns  is  at  less  distance.  To  neglect,  at  any  time, 
preparation  for  death,  is  to  sleep  on  our  post  at 
a  siege,  but  to  omit  it  in  old  age,  is  to  sleep  at 
an  attack. 

*■  It  has  always  appeared  to  me  one  of  the  most 
strikingpassages  in  the  visions  of  Quevedo,  which 
stigmatizes  those  as  fools  who  complain  that  they 
failed  of  happiness  by  sudden  death.  *How,'  says 
h^, '  can  death  be  sudden  to  a  being  who  always 


INTRODUCTION.  W' 

knew  that  he  must  die,  and  that  the  time  of  his 
death  was  uncertain  V 

'  Since  business  and  gaiety  are  always  drawing 
our  attention  away  from  a  future  state,  some 
admonition  is  frequently  necessary  to  recal  it  to 
our  minds,  and  what  can  more  properly  renew 
the  impression  than  the  examples  of  mortality 
which  every  day  supplies  ?  The  great  incentive 
to  virtue  is  the  reflection  that  we  must  die :  it 
will  therefore  be  useful  to  accustom  ourselves, 
whenever  we  see  a  funeral,  to  consider  how  soon 
we  may  be  added  to  the  number  of  those  whose 
probation  is  past,  and  whose  happiness  or  misery 
shall  endure  for  ever.' 

That  it  is  appointed  unto  men  once  to  die,  but 
after  this  the  judgment,  are  truths  generally  ad- 
mitted: why  then,  it  may  be  asked,  are  we  so 
unwilling  to  contemplate  the  hour  of  departure  ; 
why  so  reluctant  to  review  a  life  of  which  an 
account  must  be  given,  and  which,  if  it  have  not 
beqn  wholly  devoted  to  vicious  pleasures,  has, 
perhaps,  been  wasted  in  the  pursuit  of  trifles, 


28  INTRODUCTION. 

light  and  empty  as  the  bubble  that  floats  upoft 
the  stream  ? 

It  may  be  said,  in  answer  to  this  inquiry,  that 
men  are  in  general  so  much  attached  to  the  pre- 
sent scene,  that  prospects  of  a  celestial  nature 
seldom,  if  ever,  pass  in  review  before  them* 
The  whole,  or  at  least  the  principal  part  of  their 
happiness,  is  derived  from  objects  of  sensed 
consequently,  these  objects  are  sought  with  soli- 
citude; the  heart  pants  for  possession;  the  hope 
of  fruition  stimulates  to  action  ;  and,  while  this 
inordinate  attachment  continues,  the  mind,  of 
course,  will  be  diverted  from  attention  to  the  one 
thing  needful,  and  the  time  of  serious  reflection 
never  occur,  till  the  '  night  cometh,  in  which  no 
man  can  work.' 

Should,  however,  a  pause  be  indulged  in  the 
career  of  life,  and  a  recollection  of  the  past  im- 
bitter  the  sweets  of  the  present,  men  console 
themselves  with  the  hope  of  making  ample  repa- 
ration by  future  repentance  and  amendment ;  not 
considering  that  they  are  under  the  government 
of  a  law  which  requires  universal  and  perpetual 


INTRODUCTION.  29 

obedience — ^which  cannot,  in  the  very  nature  of 
the  case,  dispense  with  the  violation  of  its  own 
precepts,  and  from  the  penalty  of  which  the  sin- 
ner of  himself  cannot  possibly  escape. 

The  fact  is,  we  are  in  ourselves  utterly  lost : 
under  sentence  of  condemnation  by  the  law  of 
God ;  and,  without  the  interposition  of  mercy, 
must  inevitably  perish.  To  speak  in  scripture 
language,  The  whole  world  is  become  guilty 
before  God  ;  there  is  none  that  doeth  good,  no, 
not  one  ;  therefore  by  the  deeds  of  the  law  there 
shall  no  flesh  be  justified  in  his  sight. 

These  facts,  which  are  either  not  credited,  or 
not  properly  considered  by  the  world,  I  have 
endeavoured  to  prove  in  some  of  the  subsequent 
letters.  They  are,  in  my  view,  truths  of  the  last 
importance,  with  the  knowledge  and  belief  of 
which  our  present  and  our  future  happiness  Is 
intimately  connected :  nor  do  I  think  their  vali- 
dity can  be  controverted  without  manifest  oppo- 
sition to  the  whole  current  of  revelation.  The 
Scriptures  proceed  on  the  supposition  of  the  fall 
and  depravity  of  man,  and  the  principal  part  of 


so  INTRODUCTION. 

their  contents  has  either  a  direct,  or  a  remote 
reference  to  these  awful  facts. 

If,  it  may  be  asked,  we  are  in  circumstances 
so  dreadfully  calamitous ;  if  human  nature  be  so 
degenerate  and  so  impotent,  who  then  can  be 
saved  ?  To  answer  this  infinitely  momentous 
question,  divine  revelation  became  absolutely 
necessary :  for  had  all  the  sons  of  Adam  been 
left  to  perish,  as  were  the  angels  who  kept  not 
their  first  estate,  no  intelligence  from  heaven 
would  have  been  requisite  to  prove  their  apos- 
tacy  from  God.  They  would  soon  have  found, 
by  painful  experience,  that  human  nature  was 
greatly  debased ;  that  they  were,  in  many  in- 
instances,  under  the  control  of  inordinate  appe- 
tites, and  frequently  agitated  by  passions  which, 
in  numberless  instances,  could  have  no  tendency 
to  promote  general  happiness.  As  creatures  of 
God,  and  as  subjects  of  his  moral  government, 
they  must  have  considered  themselves  as  ame- 
nable to  some  law ;  and  allowing  this  law  to  be 
founded  in  justice,  which,  as  originating  v/ith 
God,  it  must ;  impartiality  and  common  sense 
would   have   concurred  in    asserting  that  they 


INTRODUCTION.  31 

could  not,  in  the  very  nature  of  things,  be 
released  from  obligation  to  its  precepts,  nor,  in 
the  case  of  failure,  be  exempted  from  suffering 
its  penalty. 

By  tlie  scriptures  of  truth,  and  by  these  only, 
we  know  that  there  is  forgiveness  with  God, 
that  he  may  be  feared.  Without  this  astonish- 
ingly merciful  intelligence,  we  should  have  been 
involved  in  perpetual  uncertainty  and  darkness. 
For  all  the  light  that  ever  chased  the  gloom  of 
doubt,  or  cheered  the  bosom  of  despondency ; 
for  all  ihat  gives  confidence  to  faith,  energy  to 
hope,  ardency  to  love,  or  fervour  to  devotion  ; 
for  whatever  can  tranquillize  the  mind  in  life,  or 
administer  consolation  at  the  last  hour,  we  are 
indebted  to  the  Bible. 

That  this  inestimable  book  exhibits  a  salva- 
tion worthy  the  benignity  of  God,  and  exactly 
suited  to  the  wretchedness  of  man,  I  have  at- 
tempted to  prove  in  the  following  pages.  To  this 
salvation,  therefore,  I  have  directed  my  amia- 
ble friend,  from  whom,  notwithstanding  all  her 
doubts,  and  all  her  fears,  I  had  satisfactory  evi- 

D 


32  INTRODUCTION, 

dence  that  her  sorrow  was  not  like  the  sorrow 
of  the  world  which  worketh  death. 

It  may,  perhaps,  be  asked,  If  the  salvation 
revealed  in  the  Bible  be  so  admirably  well  adapt- 
ed to  relieve  our  miseries,  to  encourage  hope 
and  inspire  confidence  in  the  divine  benignity, 
whence  the  doubts  and  the  fears  with  which  La- 
vinia  appears  to  be  constantly  harrassed  ?  This, 
I  allow,  is  a  question  natural  to  him  who  has 
never  felt  the  bitterness  of  sin  ;  who  has  never 
experienced  the  corruption  of  his  own  heart;  nor 
ever  seen,  by  the  light  of  divine  truth,  the  purity 
and  the  perfection  of  the  blessed  God.  Let  the 
querist  have  but  a  discovery  of  these,  and  he 
wiltsee  cause  enough  for  dejection:  he  will  cease 
to  wonder  that  the  trembling  sinner  should  rea- 
son like  the  rebel  who  has  ungratefully  risen  up 
in  arms  against  his  lawful  sovereign  ;  who,  when 
contemplating  the  heinous  nature  of  his  crime, 
is  led  to  conclude  that,  if  punishment  be  remit- 
ted for  the  present,  his  rebellion  cannot  be  for- 
gotten, nor  he  himself  again  restored  to  the 
favour  and  affection  of  his  prince. 


INTRODUCTION.  33 

But  notwithstanding  what  the  scriptures  have 
said  to  excite  confidence  in  the  divine  mercy 
through  Jesus  Christ,  it  will  not  appear  strange 
that  we  are  so  slow  of  heart  to  believe,  if  it  be 
remembered  that  unbelief  is  a  radical  evil  in  hu- 
man nature  ;  that  by  which  it  was  first  contami- 
nated, by  which  it  is  still  influenced,  and,  in  fact, 
the  fruitful  source  of  many  atrocities  that  dis- 
grace the  character  of  man. 

When  that  positive  law  was  given  by  confor- 
mity to  which  the  first  pair  v/ere  to  manifest 
their  submission  to  the  divine  v/ill,  they  were  ex- 
pressly told,  that,  incase  of  disobedience,  ^They 
should  surely  die.'  But  no  sooner  was  the 
command  made  known  to  Satan,  that  enemy  of 
all  righteousness,  than  he  had  the  audacity  to 
assert,  that  the  prohibitory  injunction  might  be 
violated  with  impunity — '  That  they  should  not 
surely  die' — declaring,  at  the  same  time.  That 
this  was  only  an  artful  pretext  by  which  to  pre- 
elude  them  from  the  godlike  knowledge  which 
the  Almighty  knew  the  fruit  of  that  tree  was 
adapted  to  impart. 


34  INTHODUCTION. 

Now  on  this  principle  all  men  proceed  in  at* 
tempting  to  extenuate  the  turpitude  of  their 
own  actions.  For  though  God  have  perempto- 
rily declared,  That  he  will  by  no  means  clear 
the  guilty — that  the  wicked  shall  be  turned  into 
hell,  and  all  the  nations  that  forget  God :  yet 
they  say,  not  merely  of  comparatively  small,  but 
of  enormous  sins,  *  The  Lord  shall  not  see, 
neither  shall  the  God  of  Jacob  regard  it.' 
Though  they  continue  to  indulge  their  evil  pro- 
pensities in  almost  every  species  of  iniquity,  yet 
they  flatter  themselves  with  the  hope  of  escaping 
divine  justice,  or  at  least  that,  in  consequence 
of  sorrow  and  repentance  at  the  last  hour,  the 
Almighty  will  mercifully  pardon  and  accept 
them.  Why,  therefore,  should  it  be  thought 
unaccountably  strange  that  the.  real  christian 
should,  when  left  to  himself,  feel  the  painful 
effects  of  unbelief?  be  harrassed  with  doubts 
and  fears,  and  sometimes  manifest  distrust  of 
the  divine  goodness?  Human  nature  is  the  same 
in  both,  and  so  totally  depraved,  that,  without 
foreign  aid,  it  has  neither  power  nor  inclination 
to  counteract  the  pernicious  influence  of  this  dia- 
bolical principle.     It  is  not,  thereforcj  the  mere 


INTRODUCTION.  ^S 

promulgation  of  a  fact  in  reference  to  salvation 
by  Jesus  Christ,  that  will  calm  the  perturbed 
mind,  or  excite  confidence  in  divine  mercy. 
The  carnal  mind  is  alienated  from  God  j  and 
this  alienation,  especially  if  attended  with  deep 
conviction  of  apostacy  and  guilt,  generates  sus- 
picion, and  suspicion  distrust :  the  impediments 
to  reconciliation  and  to  peace  must  therefore  be 
removed  before  there  can  be  either  confidence 
or  affection.  But,  as  the  springs  to  resist  evil  in 
the  moral  system  are  in  man  so  completely  weak- 
ened, the  sinner  must  inevitably  fall  a  prey  to 
his  own  disease,  unless  he  that  spake  the  world 
into  being  mercifully  interpose  to  save  the  soul 
from  perdition. 

If  then  it  be  true,  that  in  God  we  live,  and 
move,  and  have  our  being;  and  that  without 
his  divine  agency  we  perform  no  physical  action, 
surely  no  argument  can  be  wanted  to  prove  that 
we  must  stand  solely  indebted  to  him  for  that 
faith  which  counteracts  the  sinful  propensities 
of  our  nature,  which  purifies  the  heart,  and  over- 
comes the  world;  which,  in  opposition  to  sense, 
is  conversant  with  invisible  realities,  and  which 
d2 


36  INTRODUCTION. 

not  only  joyfully  receives,  but  gratefully  confides 
in  the  divine  testimony. 

If,  therefore,  we  are  not  sufficient  of  ourselves 
to  think  any  thing  as  of  ourselves,  but  our  suffi- 
ciency is  of  God :  If  faith  be  his  gift,  and  no  man 
can  come  to  Christ  except  the  Father  draw  him  : 
If,  without  divine  energy,  we  can  neither  over- 
come our  natural  propensity  to  evil,  love  the 
divine  character,  nor  cordially  trust  in  revealed 
mercy  :  If,  after  having  tasted  that  the  Lord  is 
gracious,  we  cannot  stand  stedfast  in  the  faith, 
unless  he  tkat  began  the  good  work  perform  it 
until  the  day  of  Christ ;  what  need  have  we  to 
implore  the  Father  of  mercies  to  work  in  us  both 
to  will  and  to  do  of  his  good  pleasure — that  he 
would  guide  us  by  his  counsel,  and  afterwards 
receive  us  to  glory  !       ^ 


THE  REFUGE. 


LETTER  I. 

Come  then— a  still,  small  whisper  in  your  c\ 
He  has  no  hoj)e  who  never  had  a  fear  ; 
And  he  that  never  doubted  of  his  state. 
He  may  perhaps— perhaps  he  may— tou  late. 


^<S^^ 


jfxNXlETY  like  yours,  Lavlnia,  interests  all 
the  feelings  of  humanity,  and  imperceptibly 
raises  the  soft  emotions  of  compression.  The 
severity  of  your  triat  strikes  m.e  with  peculiar 
force  :  it  resembles,  in  many  respects,  what  I 
have  formerly  experienced  ;  and  if  the  recital 
of  similar  distress  could  excite  encouragement, 
I  might  relate  how  your  affectionate  correspond- 
ent, and  others  have  been  exercised  in  the  same 
circumstances.  '  For  among  the  various  methods 
oi  coiisolation  to  which  the  miseries  inseparable 


38  THE  REFUGE. 

from  our  present  state  have  given  occasion,  one 
of  the  first  comforts  which  one  neighbour  admi- 
nisters to  another,  is  a  relation  of  the  like 
infelicity,  combined  with  circumstancesof  greater 
bitterness.' 

But  alas !  what  can  the  repetition  of  dis-» 
tress  avail  her  whose  troubles  are  thought 
to  be  too  personal,  and  too  great  to  be  les- 
sened by  comparison  !  What !  must  I  then  be 
silent  ?  No  ;  humanity  forbids  the  thought : 
the  distress  that  I  cannot  remove,  let  me 
endeavour  to  alleviate  ;  or  rather,  let  me  attempt 
to  direct  my  amiable  querist  to  that  God  who 
is  the  sinner's  friend,  a  very  present  help  in 
trouble,  and  who  never  said  to  the  seed  of 
Jacob — Seek  ye  me  in  vain. 

Those  depressions  of  guilt  which  create 
disquietude,  are  the  natural  consequences  of 
sin.  The  soul  alarmed  by  the  stings  of  con- 
science, nov/  perceives  how  detestable  it  is  in 
the  sight  of  him  who  is  of  purer  eyes  than  to 
behold  evil,  and  who  cannot  look  on  iniquity 
but  with   abhorrence.     A   sense   of  deserved 


THE  REFUGE.  39 

wrath  stimulates  the  risings  of  despair,  and 
leaves  the  soul  without  the  least  apparent 
prospect  of  forgiveness.  Permit  me,  however, 
to  remind  you  of  those  days  and  months  in 
which  the  commission  of  sin  was  never  fol- 
lowed by  compunction;  in  which  conscience, 
now  replete  with  charges  of  guiit,  suffered 
you  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  tranquillity  with- 
out hinderance,  though  subject  to  the  same 
condemnation  which  is  now  the  sole  ground 
of  uneasiness.  The  remembrance  of  this  tran- 
quillity may  indeed  add  pungency  to  grief 
already  great :  you  will,  nevertheless,  lose 
nothing  by  the  comparison,  but  find,  on  the 
contrary,  that  it  will  lead  to  the  discovery  of 
something  adapted  to  relieve  the  mind  from 
perplexity  and  sorrow. 

The  Almighty,  who  worketh  all  things  after 
the  counsel  of  his  own  will,  generally  brings 
the  soul  into  a  state  of  deep  disquietude 
on  account  of  sin,  previous  to  the  manifestation 
of  pardoning  mercy.  '  He  killeth  and  maketh 
alive  :  he  woundeth  that  he  may  heal — he 
bindeth    up    the    broken    in    heart.     Though 


40  THE  REFUGE. 

he  cause  grief,  he  will  not  cast  ofF  for  ever : 
he  will  have  compassion  according  to  the 
multitude  of  his  mercies — weeping  may- 
endure  for  a  night,  but  joy  cometh  im  the 
morning.' 

There  are,  undoubtedly,  many  exceptions  to 
this  rule.  Some  persons  are  drawn  with  loving 
kindness,  by  a  discovery  of  divine  benevo^ 
lence  to  man  in  the  astonishing  work  of 
redemption :  others  experience  the  same  good- 
ness in  a  way  that  cannot  be  described,  because 
the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit  has  been  so  gradual 
as  to  leave  no  traces  of  his  first  operations 
on  the  mind.  In  each  case,  however,  the 
Lord  acts  as  a  sovereign,  distributing  his  own 
favours  when,  and  to  whom  he  pleaseth ;  and 
as  we  cannot  account  for  the  various  dis- 
pensations of  his  grace  to  sinners,  we  must 
rest  satisfied  while  we  gratefully  rejoice  in 
this  certainty — ^that  all  are  led  to  see  the 
want  of  something  to  procure  their  acceptance 
with  God,  distinct  from  what  is  either  natural 
or  acquired,  before  a  Saviour  can  be  desirable : 
and  if,  to  this  end,  it  be  your  lot  to  feel  much 


THE  REFUGE.  41 

of  the  agony  of  guilt,  it  is  nevertheless  your 
duty  to  be  thankful:  as  the  mercy  hereafter 
to  be  enjoyed  will  not  be  lessened  by  the  pain 
that  precedes  it. 

Your  imagining  that  no  permanent  good 
can  arise  from  the  incident  which  first  led 
you  to  contemplate  your  conduct  and  your 
c5haracter,  merely  because  trivial  in  itself,  and 
no  way  connected  with  the  glory  of  God  or 
the  happiness  of  man,  is  a  conclusion  deroga- 
tory to  infinite  wisdom,  and  implicitly  limits 
the  Holy  One  of  Israel.  The  Almighty  is 
never  at  a  loss  for  means  to  accomplish  his 
own  designs.  He  can  overrule,  for  this  pur- 
pose, those  that  are  apparently  the  most  trifling, 
or,  in  reality,  the  most  atrocious.  '  His  thoughts 
are  not  our  thoughts  ;  nor  our  ways  his  ways* 
For  as  the  heavens  are  higher  than  the  earth,  so 
are  his  ways  higher  than  our  ways,  and  his 
thoughts  than  our  thoughts.' 

Little  did  Zaccheus  think  that  his  ardent 
curiosity  to  see  Jesus,  was  in  order  to  exalt 
the  riches  of  grace  in  pardoning  one  who  was, 


42  THE  REFUGE. 

though  little  in  stature,  the  greatest  of  sin- 
ners  ;  much  less  that,  on  the  same  day,  he  was 
to  become  as  conspicuous  for  restitution  and 
benevolence  as  he  had  formerly  been  for 
extortion  and  oppression.  Saul  of  Tarsus  never 
imagined  that  his  diabolical  errand  to  Damas- 
cus v/ould  be  the  occasion  of  his  boldly 
preaching  the  faith  he  purposely  M^ent  to 
destroy.  Nor  the  thief,  when  perpetrating  the 
detestable  crime  for  which  he  suffered  on  a 
gibbet,  that  he  was  to  expire  in  such  circum- 
stances and  in  such  company ;  or  that  he  was 
then  committing  an  act  for  which  he  was 
afterwards  to  be  exhibited  as  a  spectacle  to 
angels  and  to  men  ;  that  both  might  have  incon- 
testable proof,  that  he  w^hom  the  selfrighte- 
ous  Pharisees  despised  and  rejected,  w^as,  in 
the  last  agonies  of  death,  what  he  always 
professed  to   be    in    his   life — the    Saviour  of 


That  state  of  darkness  and  of  distress  which 
you  think  peculiar  to  yourself,  is  common  to 
every  penitent  when  a  sense  of  interest  in 
divine  forgiveness  is  withheld.     Few   persons 


THE  REFUGE.  43 

are  led  to  dispute  either  the  freeness  or  the 
all  sufficiency  of  the  grace  manifested   in  the 
gospel  for  the  pardon  of  sin :  painful  concern, 
in   reference   to   this  subject,  generally  arises 
from  a  fear  of  their  having  no  right  to  par- 
take   of  the    distinguishing    blessing.     When 
this  is  the  case,  guilt  holds  the  soul  in  bond- 
age ;    unbelief  obscures    the  first   glimmerings 
of  hope  ;  and  it  is  precipitately  concluded,  that 
there   is  no  ground  on  which   to    expect   for- 
giveness.    But,  with  regard  to   yourself,  why 
this   despondency?    doubt   neither   the    suffici- 
ency nor  the  freeness  of  grace.     That  God  who 
hath  awakened  -and  wounded  the  sleeping  con- 
science,   hath    also    directed   to    a    physician 
acquainted  with  both  the  disease  and  the  remedy ; 
and  who  is  not  only  able,  but  willing  to  present 
you  faultless  before  the  presence  of  his  father 
with  exceeding  joy. 

Why,  then,  do  you  judge  it  'rather  your 
duty  to  mourn  than  to  believe;  to  feel  the 
bitterness  of  sin,  than  to  taste  the  sweetness 
of  a  promise  ;  and  to  put  away  comfort  lest  it 
should   check    the    overflowings    of    sorrow:' 

E 


44  THE  REFUGE. 

To  souls  under  spiritual  convictions  of  sin, 
belong  all  the  consolatory  promises  that  enrich 
the  oracles  of  truth.  The  united  power  of  earth 
and  hell  can  neither  hinder  their  accomplish- 
ment, nor  devest  the  soul  of  the  right  it  has 
to  the  blessings  they  contain.  What  shall  I 
then  say  to  repress  fear  and  encourage  hope? 
To  this  inquiry  the  language  of  truth  answers — 
'  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  people  -,  speak  ye 
comfortably  to  Jerusalem  ;  cry  unto  her,  that 
her  warfare  is  accomplished,  that  her  iniquity  is 
pardoned  !'  Surely  these  are  tidings  suited  to 
distress — that  must  raise  dejection  from  the 
dust,  and  inspire  doubt  with  confidence  !  Come, 
then,  '  thou  that  art  of  a  fearful  heart,  be  strong ;' 
this  night  of  darkness  is  but  a  kind  prelude 
to  that  lucid  interval  when  Jesus,  the  sun  of 
righteousness,  shall  arise,  and  be  as  the  light  of 
the  morning  when  the  sun  riseth,  even  a  morning 
without  clouds. 

The  soul,  emerg'd  from  nature's  night. 

Shall  view  the  dawning  ray, 
With  splendid  beams  of  genial  light. 

Bring  in  the  welcome  day : 
The  healing  sweets  of  Gilead's  balm^ 

Thy  wounded  breast  shall  prove ; 
And  every  ruder  thought  be  calm, 

Subdu'd  by  conqu*rmg  1ov*f 


THE  REFUGE.  45 

Let  not  unbelief  suggest  that  the  enjoyment 
of  this  delightful  season  is  impossible ;  for 
with  Christ,  the  Almighty  Sayiour,  all  things 
are  possible.  His  resplendent  beams  can  pene- 
trate the  dark  recesses  of  the  heart,  dispel  the 
gloomy  horrours  of  guilt,  and  usher  in  the 
glorious,  the  welcome  day  of  gospel  grace. 
Then  ^  fear  not,  thou  shalt  not  be  ashamed 
neither  shalt  thou  be  confounded :  for  thy 
Maker  is  thy  husband,  and  thy  Redeemer  the 
Holy  One  of  Israel.' 

Your  present  dejection  may  perhaps  induce 
you  to  reply,  '  I  wait  for  light,  but  behold 
obscurity  ;  for  brightness,'  but  walk  in  darkness.' 
Nevertheless,  be  not  discouraged :  the  '  Lord 
shall  be  unto  thee  an  everlasting  light,  and 
thy  God,  thy  glory.'  He  will  display  the 
infinite  freeness  of  his  grace,  and  revive  your 
disconsolate  spirit  with  the  manifestation  of 
your  interest  in  his  love.  His  lenient  hand 
will  apply  to  the  wounded  conscience  the 
pardoning  blood  of  Christ,  who  is  the  great 
physician  that  healeth  all  our  diseases — that 
stills  the  surges  of  the  mind.     When  he  giveth 


46  THE  REFUGE. 

quietness,  who  then  can  make  trouble  ?  and 
when  he  hideth  his  face,  who  can  behold  him  ? 
If  he  but  say,  Peace,  be  still,  there  shall  be  a 
great  calm. 

Having,  therefore,  such  a  gracious  and  almighty 
Redeemer,  let  me  entreat  you  to  flee  to  him  for 
free  pardon  ;  for  full  redemption.  Implore  his 
omnipotent  aid  to  banish  every  fear,  to  silence 
every  doubt;  and  he  will  bring  you  off  more 
than  conqueror.  The  arms  of  his  merry  are 
ever  extended  for  the  reception  of  sinners.  He 
waits  to  be  gracious.  In  him  are  safety  and 
everlasting  strength.  He  is  the  eternal  God  : 
he  is  the  sinner's  refuge — ^the  hiding  place — a  ' 
sanctuary  in  the  day  of  trouble. 

Should  you  say,  I  am  weak  and  helpless ; 
let  me  ask  with  the  prophet,  '  Hast  thou  not 
known?  hast  thou  not  heard,  that  the  ever- 
lasting God,  the  Lord,  the  Creator  of  the  ends 
of  the  earth,  fainteth  not,  neither  is  weary  ? 
He  giveth  power  to  the  faint  ;  and  to  them 
that  have  no  might  he  increaseth  strength. 
Even  the  youths  shall  faint  and  be  weary,  and 


THE    REFUGE.  47 

the  young  men  shall  utterly  fall :  but  they  that 
wait  upon  the  Lord  shall  renew  their  strength ; 
they  shall  mount  up  with  wings  as  eagles  ; 
they  shall  run,  and  not  be  weary  ;  and  they 
shall  walk,  and  not  faint.'  Now,  is  it  possi- 
ble to  sink  when  upheld  by  Omnipotence  ? 
Can  you  faint  vmder  the  benign  influence  of 
almighty  succour  ?  No,  this  is  impossible  :  for 
thus  saith  the  Lord,  ^  I  am  with  thee ;  be  not 
dismayed,  I  am  thy  God :  I  will  strengthen 
thee  ;  I  will  help  thee ;  yea,  I  will  uphold 
thee  with  the  right  hand  of  my  righteousness* — 
In  returning  and  rest  shall  ye  be  saved;  in  quiet- 
ness and  in  confidence  shall  be  your  strength*' 
Surely,  words  more  animating  and  consolatory 
cannot  be  easily  selected :  they  ensure  safety 
in  the  most  perilous  situation,  and  support  un- 
der  the  most  pressing  difficulties  ;  and  were  it 
not  for  such  exceeding  great  and  precious  pro- 
mises,  the  trembling  sinner  might  sink  under 
the  weight  of  his  guilt,  and  fall  into  absolute 
despair. 

But  the  Lord,  who   is  rich  in  mercy,  hath 
given   ample    ground    for    consolation   to   the 

e2 


48  THE    REFUGE. 

soul  that  is  burdened  with  guilt  and  strug- 
gling for  deliverance.  He  hath  provided  and 
revealed  a  Saviour  who  is  not  only  able,  but 
willing  to  save  them  to  the  uttermost  that 
come  unto  God  by  him.  No  supplicant  was 
ever  driven  from  his  throne,  or  sought  relief 
of  him  in  vain.  The  Pharisees  did  not  utter 
a  disgraceful,  but  a  delightful  truth,  when 
they  said  of  Christ,  in  a  way  of  reproach.  He 
receiveth  sinners.  The  wretched  and  forlorn, 
the  helpless  and  the  hopeless,  will  meet  with 
a  kind  reception.  ^  The  Spirit  and  the  bride 
say.  Come.  And  let  him  that  is  athirst  come. 
And  whosoever  will,  let  him  take  the  water  of 
life  freely.' 

Are  you  weary  and  heavy  laden  I  is  con- 
science burdened  with  reiterated  charges  of 
guilt  ?  do  you  find  yourself  unable  to  support 
the  ponderous  load  ?  if  so,  '  Cast  your  burden 
upon  the  Lord,  and  he  shdll  sustain  you.'  Flee 
to  this  compassionate  ci^eliverer,  this  friend  of 
sinners.  Attend  to  tlie  endearing  declaration 
of  his  own  lips  :  '  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that 
labour  and  are   heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give 


THE  REFUGE.*  49 

you  rest.  Take  my  yoke  upon  you,  and  learn 
of  me  ;  for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  in  heart :  and 
ye  shall  find  rest  unto  your  souls.'  Encourag- 
ing language  this.  Surely  it  must  rouse  de- 
jection from  her  torpor,  and  lay  a  foundation 
for  hope  in  the  most  abandoned  profligate  on 
earth.  Nothing  can  be  more  applicable  to  his 
wretched  condition,  nor  better  adapted  to  ad- 
minister relief. 

The  Saviour's  right  of  dispensing  such  in- 
comparable blessings  originates  in  himself. 
No  worthiness,  foreseen  in  the  creature,  in- 
duced him  to  leave  the  mansions  of  glory  to 
become  the  surety  of  sinners.  His  bearing 
that  delightful  character,  and  performing  the 
arduous  work  pertaining  to  it,  proceeded  from 
his  ovi^n  sovereign^  grace.  Pie  voluntarily  un- 
dertook the  office  of  mediator  ;  and  in  his 
condescending  to  this  work,  '  made  himself  of 
no  reputation  ;  took  upon  him  the  form  of  a 
servant,  and  humbled  himself  unto  deatli, 
even  the  death  of  the  cross.'  By  this  expia- 
tory death,  he  finished  transgression,  and  made 
an  eijd  of  sin  ;  sat/sficd  all   the  claims  of  law 


50  THE    REFUGE. 

and  of  justice  on  his  people ;  blotted  out  the 
hand  writing  of  ordinances  that  stood  against 
them  ;  and  brought  in  an  everlasting  righteous- 
ness for  their  complete  salvation.  But  this 
is  not  all  that  the  divine  Jesus  hath  done  .  he 
hath  not  merely  cancelled  our  obligation  to 
punishment  as  sinners — he  has  made  ample 
provision  for  delivering  his  followers  from  the 
power  of  guilt,  and  the  dominion  of  sin. 

These  are  privileges,  the  conscious  enjoy- 
ment of  which  would  beggar  all  description. 
Your  present  fears  may,  perhaps,  urge  you  to 
conclude  that  you  shall  never  participate  of 
these  inestimable  favours.  But  why  not?  '  Is 
the  Lord's  hand  shortened,  that  it  cannot  re- 
deem? hath  he  no  power  to  deliver?  At  his 
rebuke,  he  drieth  up  the  sea,  and  maketh 
the  rivers  a  vrilderness.'  The  Lord  will  not 
'  despise  the  day  of  small  things.  A  bruised 
reed  shall  he  not  break,  and  the  smoking  flax 
shall  he  not  quench — He  will  bind  up  the 
broken  hearted ;  proclaim  liberty  to  the  cap- 
tive ;  and  open  the  prison  to  them  that  are 
bound — He    will   bring    the   blind   by    a  way 


THE    REFUGE,  51 

that  they  knew  not — he  will  make  darkness 
light  before  them,  and  crooked  things  straight. 
These  things  will  he  do,  and  not  forsake 
them.'  He  that  hath  graciously  begun  a  good 
work  in  you,  will  perform  it  until  the  day  of 
Jesus  Christ.  He  is  a  rock,  and  his  work  is 
perfect.  Grace  in  the  heart,  is  an  earnest  of 
glory. 

Seeing,  therefore,  that  we  have  such  an 
Almighty  Saviour,  let  me  entreat  you  to  turn 
to  him,  the  strong  hold,  in  the  day  of  trouble  : 
for  he  knoweth  them  that  trust  in  him.  '  He 
shall  be  as  a  hiding  place  from  the  wind, 
and  a  covert  from  the  tempest ;  as  rivers  of 
water  in  a  dry  place,  as  the  shadow  of  a  great 
rock  in  a  weary  land.'  To  the  trembling  sin- 
ner, these  considerations  must  afford  un- 
speakable encouragement ;  nor  will  it  appear 
strange,  when  it  is  considered  that  he  is  not 
only  delivered  from  the  terroui^s  of  guilt,  the 
bondage  of  corruption,  the  curses  of  a  violated 
law,  and  that  eternal  punishment  which  is  the 
just  desert  of  sin ;  but  is  adopted  into  the  fa- 
mily of  God,  and  constituted  an  heir  of  glory. 


52  THE    KETUGE. 

This  is  to  be  free  indeed !  These  are  immu- 
nities suited  to  the  abject  state  of  man:  they 
not  only  exonerate  from  condemnation  and 
death,  but  raise  to  dignity  and  splendour — 
to  consummate  purity  and  everlasting  blessed- 
ness. 

Flee,  then,  to  this  Jesus — chis  city  of  refuge^ 
Say,  what  makes  you  hesitate  ?  Why  let  sus- 
pense engross  the  moment  that  comes  winged 
with  mercy  ?  What !  is  there  no  balm  in  Gi- 
lead  ?  is  there  no  physician  there  ?  Yes  :  and 
such  is  the  benignity  of  his  heart  that,  when 
on  earth  he  went  about  doing  good  :  healing 
all  manner  of  sickness,  and  all  manner  of  dis- 
ease. The  errand  on  which  he  came,  was  an 
errand  of  benevolence :  he  announced  pul>- 
lickly,  in  the  synagogue  at  Nazaijeth,  '  The 
spirit  of  the  Lord  is  upon  me,  because  he  hath 
anointed  me  to  preach  the  gospel  to  the  poor ; 
he  hath  sent  me  to  heal  the  broken  hearted, 
to  preach  deliverance  to  the  captives,  and  re- 
covering of  sight  to  the  blind,  to4et  at  liberty 
them  that  are  bruised,  to  preach  fhe  acceptable 
year  of  the  Lord :'  and  is  his  arni  shortened  at 


THE    REFUGE,  5o 

all,  that  it  cannot  redeem  ?  Know  you  not  that 
he  ever  liveth  to  make  intercession — that  he 
is  able  to  save  to  the  uttermost — that  he 
is  exalted  to  be  a  Prince  and  a  Saviour,  to  give 
repentance  and  forgivness  of  sins  ?  *  PIo  !  eve- 
ry one  that  thirsteth,'  is  the  language  of  divine 
munificence  :  '  come,  and  take  the  water  of  life 
freely — If  any  man  thirst,  let  him  come  vmto 
me,  and  drink.'  '  He  that  believeth  on  me,' 
as  the  scripture  haih  said,  '  out  of  his  belly  shall 
flow  rivers  of  living  water.' 

Should  you  $ay,  in  excuse  for  not  comply- 
ing with  the  benevolent  invitation,  I  have 
nothing  to  bring  that  can  entitle  me  to  share 
the  inestimable  favour  ;  suffer  me  to  remind 
you,  that  the  invitation  extends  not  to  those 
that  are  ricli,  but  to  him  that  hath  no  money : 
nothing  with  which  to  purchase  the  divine 
clemency,  or  to  satisfy  the  claims  of  justice. 
The  question  in  this  case  is  not,  '  What  am  I 
worthy  to  receive  :  but,  what  has  God  graci- 
ously promised  to  bestow?'  If,  therefore,  you 
are  among  the  thirsty  and  the  indigent  ; 
^  Come,  buy,  and  eat ;    yea,    come   buy  wine 


54  THE    REFUGE. 

and  milk  without  money  and  without  price/ 
Poverty  of  spirit,  remember,  is  no  bar  to  for- 
giveness. '  For  thus  saith  the  high  and  lofty 
One  that  inhabiteth  eternity,  whose  name  is 
Holy  ;  I  dwell  in  the  high  and  holy  place, 
with  him  also  that  is  of  a  contrite  and  humble 
spirit,  to  revivje  the  spirit  of  the  humble,  and 
to  revive  the  heart  of  the  contrite  ones.'  If 
there  be  one  posture  of  the  soul  more  lovely 
and  desirable  than  another,  it  is  when  at  his 
footstool,  in  whose  sight  the  heavens  are  not 
clean  :  when  it  can  say,  with  Jacob,  I  am  not 
worthy  of  the  least  of  all  the  mercies,  and  of 
all  the  truth,  which  thou  hast  shewed  unto  thy 
servant :  or,  with  Job,  behold  I  am  vile  ; 
what  shall  I  answer  thee  ?  I  will  lay  mine  hand 
upon  my  mouth — I  abhor  myself,  and  repent  in 
dust  and  ashes. 

The  language  of  your  heart,  my  amiable 
friend,  speaks  poverty  of  spirit :  to  whom  then 
should  you  go  but  to  Christ,  with  whom  there 
are  durable  riches  and  righteousness?"  Where- 
fore do  ye  spend  money  for  that  which  is  not 
bread  ?  and  your  labour  for  that  which  satis- 


THE    REFUGE.  55 

fieth  not  ?  Hearken  diligently  unto  me,  is  the 
language  of  Jesus,  and  eat  ye  that  which  is 
good,  and  let  your  soul  delight  itself  in  fat- 
ness. Incline  your  ear,  and  come  unto  me  : 
hear,  and  your  soul  shall  live — Return  to  the 
Lord,  and  he  will  have  mercy  upon  you ;  and 
to  our  God,  for  he  will  abundantly  pardon.' 

Would  you  experience  peace  of  conscience, 
and  communion  with  the  Father  of  mercies  I 
these  inestimable  blessings,  remember,  are 
only  to  be  enjoyed  through  the  medium  of  a 
Saviour's  blood.  ^  Without  shedding  of  blood 
is  no  remission — God  was  in  Christ,  reconci- 
ling the  world  unto  himself,  not  imputing  their 
trespasses  unto  them.'  Go  to  him,  therefore, 
just  as  you  are — as  wretched  and  miserable, 
and  poor,  and  blind,  and  naked.  He  will 
clothe  you  with  the  garments  of  salvation.  '  I 
counsel  thee  to  buy  of  me,  saith  the  faithful 
land  true  witness,  gold  tried  in  the  fire,  that 
thou  mayest  be  rich  ;  and  white  raiment,  that 
thou  mayest  be  be  clothed,  and  that  the  shame  of 
thy  nakedness  do  not  appear ;  and  anoint  thine 
eyes  with  eyesalve,   that  thou  mayest  see.     Be- 

F 


56        .  THE    REFUGE. 

hold,  I  Stand  at  the  door,  and  knock ;  if  any 
man  hear  my  voice,  and  open  the  door,  I  will 
come  in  to  him,  and  will  sup  with  him,  and  he 
with  me.' 

In   opposition  to  the   freeness  of  grace,  urge 
neither  the  number  nor  the  magnitude  of  your 
crimes  as   a  bar  to   forgiveness.     This  would 
be  to  act  like  the  '  timorous  passenger  who,  in 
a  storm  at  sea,  makes   it  his  only  business  to 
tell  the  waves,  and  to  shriek  at  the   beating  of 
every  billow  against  the  ship  ;  instead  of  imi- 
tating   the    industrious    pilot,    who    hath    his 
hand    at    the   helm  and  his  eye  to  heaven,  and 
minds  more  his  duty  than  his  danger.'     Nei- 
ther your  thinking  that   pardon    cannot  be  ex- 
tended to   a  wretch  so  vile,  nor  the   depths  of 
your  despondency,  can  be  admitted  as  evidence 
of  your   having  no   interest  in  divine   mercy. 
Others  have   known  what  it  is  to  groan,   being 
burdened ;  and  have  cried   in  anguish  of  soul, 
'  My  way  is  hid  from  the  Lord,  and  my  judg- 
ment is  passed  over  from  my  God.'     No  saint, 
perhaps,  ever  experienced  more  painful  anxiety 
on  this  account,  or  exulted  more  in  confidence 


THE    REFUGE.  '        57 

of  future  glory,  than  the  psalmist.  '  Will  the 
Lord,'  he  asks,  '  cast  off  for  ever  ?  a.nd  will  he 
be  favourable  no  more  ?  Is  his  mercy  clean 
gone  for  ever  ?  Doth  his  promise  fail  for  ever- 
more ?  Hath  God  forgotten  to  be  gracious  ? 
hath  he  in  anger  shut  up  his  tender  mercies  ? — 
O  my  God,  my  soul  is  cast  clown  within  me — 
all  thy  waves  and  thy  billows  are  gone  over 
me.  Yet  the  Lord  will  command  his  loving 
kindness  in  the  day  time,  and  in  the  night  his 
song  shall  be  with  me,  and  my  prayer  unto  the 
God  of  my  life — Why  art  thou  cast  down,  O 
my  soul  ?  and  why  art  thou  disquieted  within 
me  ?  hope  thou  in  God :  for  I  shall  yet  praise 
him,  vv^ho  Is  the  health  of  my  countenance  and 
my  God.' 

Now,  unless  it  can  be  proved  that  divine 
grace  is  not  free  for  you,  and  as  competent  to 
supply  your  wants  as  those  of  the  royal  sup- 
plicant, your  doubts  must  be  groundless.  The 
psalmist  had  no  moral  vrorth  to  encourage  his 
approach  to  God  for  mercy,  and  on  which  to 
place    his   dependence  for  pardon  and  accept- 


58       •  THE    REFUGE. 

ance.  He  saw  nothing  in  himself,  as  Du  Bosc 
expresses  it,  but  ground  for  despair — The  se- 
duction of  Bathsheba,  the  blood  of  Uriah,  and 
the  numbering  of  his  people.  He  knew,  if 
the  Lord  were  to  mark  iniquity,  that  in  his 
sight  no  man  living  could  be  justified.  As  to 
the  depth  of  his  contrition  before  conversion, 
we  need  saj^  nothing  :  it  is  in  this  case  quite 
sufficient  for  your  encouragement  that,  though 
now  a  saint  in  glory,  he  was  once  a  stranger  to 
himself,  and  his  carnal  mind  enmity  to  God : 
and  in  this  awful  situation  are  all  the  progeny 
of  Adam  without  exception.  The  great  God 
beholds  from  the  height  of  his  glory^  all  of 
them  wandering  far  from  him  in  the  paths  of 
iniquity  and  of  death.  Some,  wallowing  in 
sensual  pleasures  ;  others,  delighted  with  gilded 
baubles  exhibited  by  the  world,  to  catch  the 
eye  and  fascinate  the  heart.  Some,  grasping 
after  riches  as  the  whole  of  human  happiness ; 
others,  climbing  the  steep  ascent  of  honour, 
and  of  applause  :  some  busied  about  one  thing, 
and  some  another ;  but  none  that  seeketh  after 
God  :  he  is  not  in   all  their  thoughts.     Every 


THE    REFUGE.  59 

thing  else  is  viewed  as  desirable  and  pursued 
with  avidity ;  but  the  one  thing  needful  is  ne- 
glected or  forgotten. 

But  while  the  objects  of  discriminating- 
grace  are,  with  others,  thus  wandering  far 
from  their  heavenly  Father  in  pursuit  of  sub- 
lunary bliss,  he  views  them  with  unspeakable 
compassion ;  he  stops  them  in  their  mad  career, 
and  says,  by  his  word,  or  his  providence,  Hi- 
therto shall  ye  go,  but  no  farther.  He  shows 
them  that  they  are  v/alking  in  a  path  that  is 
not  good :  he  turns  them  back  greatly  ashamed ; 
and  mercifully  brings  them  to  the  knowledge 
of  himself  by  a  way  which  they  knew  not. 
But  who,  I  ask,  are  the  men  whom  the  Lord 
thus  turns  from  the  errour  of  their  ways,  and 
to  whom  he  graciously  makes  known  the  be- 
nignity of  his  heart  ?  Are  such  only,  or  prin- 
cipally, the  objects  of  attention  who  are  com- 
paratively moral  and  devout ;  who,  because, 
they  are  less  vile  than  others,  are  more  proud, 
and  think  that,  in  consequence  of  this  negative 
goodness,  they  have  a  right  to  monopolize  the 
felicities    of  glory  ?    No ;    quite    the    reverse, 

r  2 


60  THE    REIUGE. 

Persons  of  this  description  are,  in  conformity 
to  the  estimate  which  they  make  of  them- 
selves, denominated  in  scripture,  whole — just 
persons  that  need  no  repentance  ;  and  before 
whom,  publicans  and  harlots  enter  into  the  king- 
dom of  heaven.  I  came  not  to  call  the  righte- 
ous, said  the  compassionate  Redeemer,  but 
sinners  to  repentance. 

To  the  same  purpose  speaks  the  great  apos- 
tle of  the  Gentiles.  ^  It  is  a  faithful  saying 
and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that  Christ 
Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners  ;'  of 
whom,  he  immediately  adds,  I  am  chief.  '  Re- 
turn, saith  the  Lord,  for  thou  hast  fallen  by 
thine  iniquity;  thou  hast  destroyed  thyself; 
but  in  me  is  thy  help.'  To  whom  should  you 
carry  your  complaints  ;  to  whom  unbosom 
yourself,  but  to  the  Father  of  mercies  ?  There 
is  none  else  to  deliver,  and  besides  him 
there  is  no  Saviour.  Let  not  the  number  noF 
the  greatness  of  your  sins  excite  discourage- 
ment. When  a  profligate  woman  came  to 
Christ,  in  the  days  of  his  humiliation,  no  men- 
tion was  made   either  of  the  multitude,  or  the 


THE    RBFUGE.  61 

magnitude  of  her  crimes  ;  but  the  answer  given 
to  the  pharisee,  who  brought  them  as  an  objec- 
tion against  her,  is  ; — '  Her  sins,  which  are 
many,  are  forgiven.' 

As  no  comparative  worthiness  in  the  sinner 
can  induce  God  to  bestow  mercy ,  so  no  de- 
merit can  frustrate  the  benevolent  intentions 
of  divine  goodness.  Salvation  is  of  the  Lord  : 
it  is  the  effect  of  his  own  sovereign  pleasure. 
To  say,  '  I  will  have  mercy  on  whom  I  will 
have  mercy,  and  I  will  have  compassion  on 
whom  1  will  have  compassion,'  is  the  preroga- 
tive of  Jehovah  :  and  why  the  inestimable  bles- 
sing should  be  conferred  on  any  of  the  sons  of 
Adam,  no  reason  can  be  given  but  this ;  that 
salvation,  in  its  origin,  completion,  and  bestow- 
ment,  may  redound  to  the  praise  of  the  glory 
of  his  grace. 

Could  you  exhibit  a  catalogue  of  the  black- 
est crimes  that  ever  stained  the  records  of 
history,  or  disgraced  the  character  of  man  ; 
these  crimes  could  not  be  urged  as  too  great, 
or  too  complicated  for  the   blood  of  Christ  to 


62  THE    REFUGE. 

expiate.  To  a  truth  so  animating,  and  so  ho- 
nourable  to  the  riches  of  grace,  the  great 
apostle  of  the  gentiles  repeatedly  bears  une- 
quivocal testimony.  Of  this,  we  have  a  stri- 
king instance  in  his  first  admirable  epistle  to 
the  Corinthian  church.  After  having  repro- 
ved the  brethren  for  going  to  law  with  each 
other  before  the  unjust,  he  reminds  them 
of  their  former  situation  by  reciting  enormi- 
ties, the  commission  of  which  had  made  them 
deservedly  the  reproach  of  men,  and  justly  the 
objects  of  divine  abhorrence.  '  Neither  forni- 
cators, nor  idolaters,  nor  adulterers,  nor  effe- 
minate, nor  abusers  of  themselves  with  man- 
kind, nor  thieves,  nor  covetous,  nor  drunkards, 
nor  revilers,  nor  extortioners,  shall  inherit  the 
kingdom  of  God.'  Now,  had  the  faithful  re- 
membrancer stopt  here,  we  might,  perhaps, 
have  considered  these  Corinthian  profligates 
as  without  the  verge  of  divine  forgiveness. 
But  the  sequel  proves,  that  among  these  abomi- 
nable wretches  there  were  many  vessels  of 
mercy  :  and  therefore  he  immediately  adds — 
'  Such  were  some  of  you :  but  ye  are  washed, 
but  ye   are  sanctified,  but   ye  are  justified  in 


THE  REFUGE.  63 

the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  by  the  spirit 
of  our  God.' 

How  wonderful  the  love,  the  grace,  and 
the  mercy  of  God!  In  this  list  of  detestable 
criminals,  we  perceive  sinners  of  every  class ; 
sinners  of  enormous  magnitude  ;  who,  conse- 
quently, could  have  no  moral  w^orth  to  plead 
as  a  ground  of  forgiveness  j  and  yet  their  iilthy 
souls  were  v/ashed  in  the  blood  of  Christ — 
were  justified  by  his  righteousness,  sanctified 
by  his  spirit,  and  made  meet  for  the  enjoy- 
ment of  heaven.  Surely  such  incontestable 
instances  of  the  aboundings  of  grace  over  the 
aboundings  of  sin,  must  constrain  us  to  ac- 
knowledge that  Christ  is  able  to  save  to  the 
uttermost ! 

Having,  therefore,  indubitable  evidence  of 
the  riches  of  grace  in  the  salvation  of  such 
atrocious  sinners,  attempt  not  to  limit  its  ful- 
ness or  its  freeness  respecting  yourself.  Would 
you  accept  of  pardon  as  revealed  in  the  gospel 
for  the  relief  of  the  guilty  and  the  wretched, 
approach  the  mercy  seat  just  as  you  are.    Carry 


64  THt  REFUGE. 

with  you  all  your  sins — all  your  guilt,  and 
frankly  confess  both  before  him  that  searcheth 
the  reins  and  the  heart.  Adopt  the  supplica- 
tory language  of  David :  '  Lord,  pardon  my 
iniquity,  for  it  is  great ;'  or,  rather,  plead  no- 
thing in  hope  of  forgiveness,  but  the  blood  of 
him  in  whose  name  you  are  exhorted  to  come 
with  boldness.  Stretch  forth  the  hand  of 
faith  :  lay  it  on  the  head  of  Christ,  who  is  a 
sin-bearing  Saviour,  and  he  will  carry  all  your 
transgressions  into  a  land  of  everlasting  forget- 
fulness. 

Should  you  imagine,  for  a  moment,  that 
this  merciful  High  Priest  will  not  receive  you 
as  a  perishing  sinner ;  attend  to  his  own  com.- 
passionate  words  :  '  Him  that  cometh  to  me, 
I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out' — Were  you  charge- 
able with  the  adultery  of  David,  the  murder 
of  Manasseh,  the  apostasy  of  Peter,  and  the 
blasphemy  of  Saul ;  the  accumulated  guilt  of 
these  atrocities  could  not  be  urged  as  an  ex- 
ception to  the  infinitely  gracious  declaration. 
Nay,  were  it  possible  to  produce  an  individual, 
the  turpitude  of  whose  actions  would  exclude 


THE  REFUGE.  65 

from  coming  to  Christ  for  mercy  ;  or  one  that 
did  come,  and  was  afterwards  rejected,  the 
wonderfully  encouraging  assertion  would  not 
be  true  ;  nor  could  it  be  consistently  affirmed, 
that  he  is  able  to  save  to  the  uttermost.  But 
the  Lord  is  the  God  of  truth.  '  He  is  not  a 
man,  that  he  should  lie  ;  neither  the  son  of 
man,  that  he  should  repent :  hath  he  said, 
and  shall  he  not  do  it  ?  or  hath  he  spoken, 
and  shall  he  not  make  it  good  ?'  The  works  of 
nature  may  dissolve :  nay,  they  shall  certainly 
perish;  but  the  word  of  God  remaineth  sure, 
and  his  truth  to  all  generations.  The  Lord 
hath  graciously  declared  that  he  will  regard 
the  prayer  of  the  destitute,  and  not  despise 
their  prayer :  while,  therefore,  you  acknowledge 
your  unworthiness,  and  enumerate  your  own 
wants,  remind  him  of  his  own  promise  ;  lest 
he  should  complain,  and  say,  as  he  did  in  an- 
other case,  '  Thou  hast  not  called  upon  me,  O 
Jacob  ;  thou  hast  been  weary  of  me,  and  hast 
not  honoured  me  with  thy  sacrifices.'  No 
longer  doubt  the  love  of  Christ  revealed  for 
encouragement  to  the  distressed  and  the  guilty  : 
reject  the   thought  as  highly  dishonourable  to 


66  THE   REFUGE. 

God :  and  If  the  risings  of  hope  be  depressed 
by  the  prevalence  of  unbelief,  pray  that  you 
may  be  enabled  to  give  implicit  credit  to  the 
testimony  of  his  own  word ;  that  you  may 
be  helped  to  say  w^ith  grateful  confidence, 
*  I  know  in  v/hom  I  have  believed,  and 
am  persuaded  that  he  is  able  to  keep  that 
which  I  have  committed  unto  him  against 
that  day.' 

Your  concluding,  that  there  can  be  no 
mercy  for  such  a  detestable  wretch  as  your- 
self, arises  from  ignorance,  or  inattention  to 
the  way  in  which  the  infinitely  gracious  God 
h.ilh  determined  to  save  sinners.  Pie  is, 
remember,  the  '  God  of  salvation  ;  and  unto 
God  the  Lord  belong  the  issues  from  death.' 
Instead,  therefore,  of  ransacking  the  heart  for 
pious  dispositions,  or  of  adverting  to  good 
v/orks  already  performed,  with  a  view  to  for- 
giveness ;  attend  to  the  gracious  and  instruc- 
tive language  of  him  that  saith,  '  Thou  hast 
destroyed  thyself;  but  in  me  is  thine  help — 
I,  even  I,  am  the  Lord ;  and  beside  me  there 
is  no  Saviour.' 


THE  REFUGE.  67 

The  unworthiness   inseparable  from   depra- 
vity   and   guilt,    is    certainly   matter   of    deep 
humiliation  ;  but  a  conviction  of  this  unworthi- 
ness, however  pungent,  ought  rather  to  excite 
gratitude  than  despondency  ;  to  rouse  the  tor- 
por   of    dejection :     to   impel    the    soul  to    be 
urgent  for  mercy,  and  to  engender  a  hope  that 
the  kind  hand  v/hich   discovered  the  disease, 
will  not  long  withhold  the  remedy.     The  tes- 
timony of  God   speaks  louder  than  the   most 
clamorous   conscience ;    and  to  this  testimony, 
and  this  only,  you  must  appeal  in  determining 
whether   your    fears    be   ill  or    well    founded. 
If  you  search  into  the  cause  of  your  distress, 
it  will  perhaps  be  found  to  arise,  not   from  a 
consideration  of   God's   unwillingness   to  par- 
don ;    not  from   any   want   of    efficacy   in  the 
blood  of  Christ   to  cleanse    the  most  polluted 
sinner ;  but  from  a  sense  of  having  nothing  to 
recommend   yourself  to  his    favour.     It    is    a 
conviction  of  this  fact  that  imperceptibly  holds 
the  soul  in  bondage  ;  that  renders  your  taking 
encouragement    from   God's    word    altogether 
impracticable.     Should  you  say,  '  No  sins  are 
like   mine  ;'  let  me    add,  '  There    is  no  salva- 

G 


68     '  THE  REFUGE. 

tion   like    Christ's — his  blood   cleanseth    from 
all  sin.' 

If,  however,  you  will  not  believe  '  while 
your  sins  are  so  great,  and  your  heart  so  pol- 
luted ;  it  is  probable,  w^ere  your  heart  less 
defiled,  and  your  sins  less  in  number,  that  you 
would  not  believe  in  Christ  at  all.  You  would 
be  more  likely  to  trust  in  your  own  heart,  and 
to  rely  on  your  own  righteousness,  instead  of 
believing  and  trusting  in  Christ.  Great  sins 
and  a  bad  heart,  felt  and  bewailed,  should 
operate  in  this  csise  like  hunger,  which  be- 
comes an  incentive  to  seek  food.  If  men  had 
clean  hearts,  it  is  very  likely  they  would 
dispose  of  them  otherwise,  and  rather  think 
that  Christ  should  come  to  them,  than  they  to 
him.  Instead  of  a  man's  poverty  making  him 
less  desirous  of  relief,  it  should  make  him 
more  importunate.  To  say,  I  will  not  come 
to  Christ  because  I  have  great  sins,  is  as  if  one 
should  say,  I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with 
happiness,  if  offered,  because  I  have  great 
misery :  I  will  not  go  to  a  surgeon  for  healing, 
because  my  wounds  are  so  great :    I  will  eat  no 


THE  REFUGE.  69 

bread  because  I  am  ready  to  starve  with  hun- 
ger. This,  surely,  is  bad  logick  ;  and  it  is  not 
better  to  argue,  Because  I  am  filthy,  there- 
fore I  will  not  go  to  the  fountain  to  be 
cleansed. 

'  But,  admitting  that  you  are  a  great  sinner, 
nay,  one  of  the  greatest ;  will  your  staying 
away  from  Christ  make  your  sins  less  ?  Are 
yo«L  so  rich  as  to  pay  the  debt  out  of  your  own 
revenue  ?  or  have  you  any  hopes  of  another 
surety?  Can  complaints  of  a  great  load,  with- 
out endeavouring  its  removal,  ease  the  shoulders 
that  bear  it  ?  If  your  sins  be  so  great,  surely 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  an  almighty 
Saviour,  and  who  delighteth  in  mercy,  will 
not  lose  an  opportunity  of  evidencing  both  his 
power  and  his  pity  on  such  a,  miserable 
subject :  for,  if  there  cannot  be  so  great  a  sinner 
as  you  are,  this  is  the  last  season  he  can  have  in 
which  to  display  them  !' 

Ever  since  the  fall  of  our  first  parents,  all 
men  invariably  manifest  a  strong  propensity  to 
cleave    to  their  own  righteousness :    to   some- 


70  THE  KEFUGE. 

thing  they  have  performed,  or  are  to  perform, 
in    order    to    final   happiness.     When  a   man 
contemplates  the  turpitude  of  his  nature,  and 
the  imperfection  of  his  conduct,  he  must,  as  a 
moral  agent,  be  conscious  of  numberless  defects  ; 
of  being  extremely  culpable  ;  and,  as  he  cannot 
but  acknowledge,  on  reflection,  that  his  pravity 
has  been  the    result  of  his   own  choice,  it  is 
quite  natural  for  him  to  look  to   future  refor- 
mation for  something  that  may  counterbalance 
his    guilt,    and    avert  the   punishment   he    has 
reason  to  expect.     Without  revelation,  he  has 
no  other  medium  by  which  to  obtain  forgive- 
ness :    and,  if  this  revelation  be  neglected  or 
despised,  he  will  not  see  the  absurdity  of  his 
conduct ;    his  deceptive    hope    will  keep    pace 
with  his  diligence  ;  and,  if  divine  goodness  do 
not  interpose,  never  perceive  his  mistake  till  too 
late  to  prevent  it. 

On  this  principle  those  Jews  acted  of  whom 
it  is  said,  '  They  trusted  in  themselves  that 
they  were  righteous,  and  despised  others. 
They  had  a  zeal  for  God,  but  not  according 
to    knojvledge:    for    they,   being   ignorant   of 


THE  REFUGE.  ▼  71 

God's  righteousness,  and  going  about  to  esta- 
blish their  own  righteousness,  have  not  sub- 
mitted themselves  unto  the  righteousness  of 
God.'  But,  before  a  man  can  cordially  receive 
the  salvation  revealed  in  the  gospel,  every 
pretension  to  forgiveness,  on  the  ground  of 
human  worthiness,  must  be  entirely  relin- 
quished. '  To  talk  of  pardoning  one  that  is 
innocent,  or  of  forgiving  a  debt  that  never 
was  contracted,  is  absurd  in  the  extreme  :'  it 
is,  therefore^  a  part  of  the  Holy  Spirit's  work  to 
convince  the  sinner  that  in  his  flesh  dwelleth 
no  good  thing;  that  his  own  righteousness  is 
as  filthy  rags,  and  that,  if  he  expect  to  be 
justified  before  God,  all  he  has  ever  esteemed 
.gain,  in  reference  to  this  grand  affair,  must  be 
esteemed  loss  for  Christ. 

'  Heaven,'  says  the  very  ingenious  Spurstow, 
*  stands  like  a  little  mark  in  a  wide  field,  where 
there  are  a  thousand  ways  to  err  from  it, 
and  but  one  to  hit  it.  Yea,  though  God 
hath  said  that  there  is  but  one  sacrifice  by 
which  we  can  be  perfected  ;  but  one  blood  by 
which  we  can  be  purified  ;  but  one  name  by 
G  2 


72  THE  REFUGE,. 

which  we  can  be  saved  ;  yet  how  hardly  arc 
the  best  drawn  to  trust  perfectly  to  the  grace 
revealed,  and  to  look  from  themselves  to  Christ, 
as  the  author  and  finisher  of  their  blessedness  ? 
Seeing,  therefore,  Holy  Father,  that  thou  hast 
made  the  whole  progress  of  salvation  to  be  in 
Christ,  and  by  Christ ;  election  to  be  in  him  j 
adoption  to  be  in  him  ;  justification  to  be  in 
him ;  sanctification  to  be  in  him  ;  glorifica- 
tion to  be  in  him  ;  grant  that,  whatever  others 
do,  I  may  never  choose  the  light  of  reason, 
but  the  sun  of  righteousness  to  guide  my 
feet  into  the  paths  of  life  ;  and  that,  both 
in  life  and  in  death,  I  may  say  as  that  bles- 
sed martyr  did.  None  but  Christ,  none  but 
Christ !' 

While  the  awakened  sinner  surveys  him- 
fself,  he  can  meet  with  nothing  but  discou- 
ragement. If  he  look  within,  he  perceives 
that  the  heart  in  which  he  trusted,  has  turned 
him  aside  ;  that  it  is  deceitful  above  ail  things, 
and  desperately  wicked,  and  the  fruitful 
source  of  all  the  evils  committed  in  his  life. 
If  he  advert  to  actions  in  which  there  v/as  ap- 


TKE  REFUGE.  73 

parently  nothing  to  blame,  but  rather  every 
thing  to  praise,  he  finds,  on  minute  inspec- 
tion, enough  to  convince  him  that  he  imper- 
ceptibly sought  his  own  honour,  and  not  the 
honour  that  cometh  from  God  only.  He  feels 
that  he  is  inwardly  defiled;  he  is  convinced  that 
all  his  duties  have  been  shamefully  defec- 
tive ;  he  discovers  nothing  on  which  he  can 
safely  depend  for  pardon  and  acceptance. 
Like  the  unclean  spirit,  when  dispossessed  of 
his  peaceful  residence,  he  turns  this  way  and 
that  ;  seeking  rest,  but  finding  none  :  and  the 
reason  is  obvious  :  he  is  looking  for  that  in 
himself  which  is  only  to  be  found  in  Christ. 
Peace  for  a  troubled  conscience  is  not  to  be 
attained  in  this  v.^ay  ;  nor  will  the  trembling- 
sinner  ever  experience  the  inestimable  bles- 
sing, till  his  attention  be  called  from  himself  to 
the  cross — till,  as  a  perishing  wretch,  he  look 
to  him  that  said,  when  referring  to  his  own 
death,  '  If  I  be  lifted  up  from  the  earth,  I  will 
draw  all  men  unto  me.' 

The   inquiry   of  a    soul,    in  this  perplexed 
state,  is — How  the    Judge    of  tlie   world  can, 


74  THE  REFUGE. 

consistently  with   the    holiness   of  his   nature, 
and  the  immutability  of  his  truth  in  the  threat- 
enings,  justify  a  sinner  who,  during  his  whole 
life,  has    paid  little    or  no    regard   to   either  ? 
Now,  in  the    cross   of  Christ,  this  question   is 
explicitly    answered — the    whole     mystery    is 
completely  developed.     '  He  that  commanded 
the  light  to   shine  out  of  darkness,   shineth  in 
the   heart,  to  give  the  light  of  the   knowledge 
of  the    glory   of  God    in   the    face    of    Jesus 
Christ.'     The  eye  of  faith  discovers  how  God 
can  be  just,  and  the  justifier  of  him  that  be- 
lieveth.     The  just  God'  and  the    Saviour  arc 
beheld   with   awful   reverence    and    delightful 
astonishment !  Tears  of  gratitude  stream  from 
the  eyes  of  the  adoring  penitent:  he  looks  upon 
him  whom  his  sins  have  pierced,  and  mourns, 
*  Surely,'  he  exclaims  with  the  prophet, '  he  hath 
born  our  griefs,  and  carriedour  sorrows — He 
was  wounded   for  our  transgressions  ;  he    was 
bruised  for  our  iniquities  ;  the  chastisement  of 
our  peace  was  upon  him ;  and  with  his   stripes 
we  are  healed.     All   we  like  sheep  have  gone 
astray  ;  we  have  turned  every  one  to  his  own 
way  ;  and  the  Lord  hath  laid  on  him  the   ini- 


THE    REFUGE.  73 

ity  of  US  all — God  forbid  that  I  should  hence- 
forth glory,  save  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ — who  loved  me,  and  gave  himself  for 
me.' 

In  the  cross  of  Christ,  the  loving  kindness 
of  God  to  man  appears  with  meridian  lustre. 
By  this  despised  means  of  human  happiness, 
and  this  only,  the  divine  perfections  are  glo- 
rified, and  the  chief  of  sinners  saved.  Not, 
be  it  remembered,  by  works  of  righteousness 
which  we  have  done  ;  for  there  is  nothing  we 
ever  have  done,  or  ever  shall  do,  that  can  me- 
rit an  interest  in  the  divine  favour.  Suppose 
a  character,  among  the  apostate  sons  of  Adam, 
in  whom  resides  all  the  moral  excellency  that 
ever  dignified  human  nature  since  the  fall ; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  one  in  whom  con- 
centres all  the  moral  evil  committed  since  that 
fatal  period  ;  and  it  will  be  found  on  exami- 
nation that,  in  point  of  justification  before 
God,  they  stand  on  a  perfect  level.  The  accu- 
mulated virtue  of  the  former,  if  pleaded  as 
that  which  might  render  him  acceptable  to 
his    Judge,  would   avail   nothing  ;    nor  would 


76  THE   RETUGE. 

the  enormous  guilt  of  the  latter,  simply  consi- 
dered, be  an  obstacle  to  the  bestowment  of  grace 
and  of  glory. 

Moral  rectitude  in  all  its  forms,  we  ought, 
nevertheless,  to  admire,  and  studiously  endea- 
vour to  cultivate.  A  disregard  of  this,  where 
iinal,  renders  eternal  happiness  impossible,  and 
condemnation  absolutely  necessary.  That  virtu- 
ous actions  are  praiseworthy  in  the  sight  of  men, 
and,  in  a  comparative  view,  in  the  sight  of 
God,  is  certain ;  but  that  these  actions,  how- 
ever numerous,  or  however  splendid,  are  of  no 
use  in  the  affair  of  justification  is  demonstrable : 
and  it  is  this  grand  fact,  and  this  only,  that 
abolishes,  in  a  religious  view,  all  human  dis- 
tinctions J  that  exalts  the  riches  of  sovereign 
grace  ;  opens  a  door  of  hope  for  the  guilty ;  and 
effectually  secures  all  the  glory  of  salvation  to 
our  adorable  Immanuel. 

That  Christ  is  the  only  author  of  salvation, 
must  never  be  forgotten.  It  may  be  said,  in 
reference  to  all  he  did  as  surety  of  the  church, 
as  well  as  to  the  complete  conquest  of  his  ene- 


THE    REFUGE.  ^f 


mies  ;  '  Of  the  people,  there  was  none  with 
him  :  there  was  none  to  help,  none  to  uphold : 
therefore  his  own  arm  brought  salvation.' 
The  work  of  redemption  was  assigned  to  him 
in  the  everlasting  covenant ;  it  was  what  he 
then  voluntarily  undertook  to  perform,  and 
what,  as  mediator,  he  came  to  execute  in  the 
state  of  his  humiliation  on  earth.  By  perfect 
conformity  of  heart  and  of  life  to  the  moral 
law  ;  by  suffering  on  the  cross  the  dreadful 
penalty  annexed  to  transgression  ;  the  stupen- 
dous undertaking  was  accomplished.  That  it 
was  complete  in  all  its  parts  we  can  have  no 
doubt,  because  to  this  the  divine  Jesus  bore 
unequivocal  testimony  when,  in  the  agonies 
of  death,  he  cried,  '  It  is  finished  \  and  gave 
up  the  ghost.'  As,  therefore,  he  had  no  co- 
partner, no  assistant  in  the  work,  we  are  not 
to  imagine  that  he  will  give  his  glory  to  ano- 
ther. He  that  glorieth  must  glory  in  the 
Lord  only.  '  We  are  not  saved,  says  an 
apostle,  by  works  of  righteousness  which  we 
have  done,  but  according  to  Iiis  mercy  he 
saveth  us,  through  the  redemption  that  is  in 
Jesus  Christ  :   whom  God  hath  set-  forth  to  be 


78  THE  RETVGE. 

a  propitiation  through  faith  in  his  blood,  to 
declare  his  righteousness  for  the  remission  of 
sins.  Where  is  boasting  then  ?  It  is  excluded^ 
By  what  law  ?  of  works  ?  Nay ;  but  by  the  law 
of  faith.  Therefore  we  conclude  that  a  man 
is  justified  by  faith  without  the  deeds  of  the 
law.' 

The  apostle,  Paul,  who  made  these  asser- 
tions, and  who  laboured  much  in  all  his  preach- 
ing and  writings  to  establish  the  sovereign- 
ty of  grace,  is,  in  this  affair,  extremely  tena- 
cious of  the  honour  of  his  Master.  '  Who, 
he  asks,  maketh  thee  to  differ  from  another.^ 
and  what  hast  thou  that  thou  didst  not  re- 
ceive ?  Now,  if  thou  didst  receive  it,  why 
dost  thou  glory,  as  if  thou  hadst  not  received 
it  ?'  Sinners  are  not  ^  called  according  to  their 
works,  but  according  to  God's  purpose  and 
grace,  given  them  in  Christ  Jesus  before  the 
world  began.'  Salvation  is  of  grace  ;  and  if 
by  grace,  then,  he  adds,  ^  it  is  no  more  of 
works  :  otherwise  grace  is  no  more  grace.  But 
if  it  be  of  works,  then  it  is  no  more  of  grace  : 
otherwise    work   is   no  more    work.'     On  this 


l^»  imnortai 


THE    REFUGE. 


TO 


important  subject,  however,  I  cannot  now  en- 
large :  it  shall,  therefore,  be  resumed  in  my 
next. 


I  am  yours,  &c. 


80  THE    RErUGE. 


LETTER  II. 

What  is  all  righteousness  that  men  devise. 
What,  but  a  sordid  bargain  for  the  skies? 
But  Christ  as  soon  will  abdicate  his  own. 
As  stoop  from  heaven  to  sell  the  proud  a  throne. 

COWPER. 


X  HAT  good  works  can  have  no  place  in  the 
justification  of  a  sinner  before  God,  was  asserted 
in  my  last:  want  of  leisure,  however,  prevented 
me  from  attempting  to  vindicate  that  asser- 
tion. I  shall  now,  therefore,  in  pursuance  of 
my  promise,  transmit  my  thoughts  on  this  high- 
ly interesting  subject. 

Good  works,  performed  by  the  apostate 
sons  of  Adam,  have  no  intrinsick  merit.  The 
best  performances  of  the  most  emi]Q,ent  saint 
are  imperfect.  They  fall  vastly  short,  both 
in  motive  and  in  practice,  of  what  the  moral 
law,  which  is  the  rule  of  duty,  invariably  re- 
quires :   and    can   therefore    have   no   influence 


^Bin  the  article  of  justification.  Every  man 
must  see  the  absurdity  of  pleading  the  worth 
of  partial  and  defective  duties  in  order  to 
answer  the  demands  of  a  law  that  enjoins  per- 
fect and  perpetual  obedience.  Nay,  there 
never  was,  in  fact,  any  period  or  situation  in 
which  the  works  of  the  first  parent  of  man- 
kind could  deserve  recompense.  '  For,  having 
received  ail  from  God,  he  could  display  no 
excellence,  nor  communicate  any  favour, 
which  was  not  derived  from  divine  bounty. 
Far  from  increasing  the  glory  or  happiness  of 
his   Maker,    he    could   only   promote   his   own 

I  felicity  and  dignity,  by  exerting  his  powers  in 
the  service  of  him  who  gave  them.' 

Besides,  if  we  hope  to  obtain  compensation 
in  a  way  of  merit,  our  services  must  not  be  a 
^K  debt  previously  due  to  him  from  whom  the 
compensation  is  expected.  But  this  is  not  the 
case  with  angels,  much  less  with  rebellious 
man,  respecting  the  insulted  Sovereign  of  hea- 
ven. We  owe  him  ten  thousand  talents,  and 
I  are  absolutely  insolvent:  or,  to  use  the  lan- 
guage  of  scripture,    We  have  nothing  to  pay. 


S2  "  THE    REFUGE. 

The  law  of  God,  which  is  holy,  and  just,  and 
good  ;  which  was  adapted  to  promote  our  own 
happiness  and  his  glory,  we  have  violated  in  a 
thousand  instances.  Nor  is  this  all :  sin  has 
not  only  introduced  disorder  and  misery  into 
the  moral  world,  but  it  has  so  far  debased 
human  nature,  as  to  render  us  incapable,  with- 
out foreign  aid,  of  yielding  that  obedience 
wiiich  it  is  at  all  times,  and  in  all  circum- 
stances, our  duty  to  perform.  This  incapa- 
city, however,  which  is  purely  moral,  can  by 
no  means  be  pleaded  in  extenuation  or  excuse. 
Men  '  love  darkness  rather  than  light,  because 
their  deeds  are  evil.'  All  obedience  or  diso- 
bedience is  properly,  or  at  least  primarily,  in 
no  part  but  the  will  ;  so  that  though  other 
faculties  of  the  soul  in  regeneration  are  sancti- 
fied, and  thereby  made  conformable  to  the  will 
of  God,  yet  obedience  and  disobedience  are 
formally  acts  of  the  will,  and  according  to  its 
qualities,  a  man  is  said  to  be  obedient  to  God 
or  disobedient.  If  therefore  we  have  lost  all 
inclination  to  obey  the  great  Legislator  of 
heaven  and  of  earth,  he  has  not  lost  his  right 
to   command    universal   and   perpetual   obcdi-  , 


THE  REFUGE.  83 

ence.  His  law,  which  is  the  standard  of  per- 
fection, and  the  rule  of  duty  to  moral  agents, 
cannot,  on  that  account,  dispense  with  partial 
observance  :  nay,  could  we  henceforth  comply 
with  all  its  requirements,  we  should  do  no- 
thing more  than  our  duty.  Instead,  there- 
fore, of  attempting  to  palliate  the  guilt  of 
remissness,  we  ought  to  cry  with  the  trembling- 
jailor.  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  ?  or  in  the 
more  pertinent  language  of  the  publican,  God 
be  merciful  to  me,  a  sinner  ! 

That  good  works  cannot  be  profitable  to 
God,  nor  serviceable  to  man,  in  the  impor- 
tant affair  of  justification,  is  a  truth  that  ex- 
tends to  men  of  every  description.  The  real 
christian,  who  is  renewed  in  the  spirit  of  his 
mind,  and  enabled  to  act  on  principles  very 
different  from  men  in  a  state  of  nature,  can 
claim  no  exception ;  na}^,  it  will  be  the  lan- 
guage of  his  heart.  My  goodness,  O  Lord, 
extendeth  not  unto  thee.  Morality,  in  this  case, 
can  have  nothing  meritorious  in  it ;  '  it  being,' 
says  a  celebrated  writer,  '  but  wisdom,  pru- 
dence, or  good  economy,  v/hich,  like  health, 
H  2 


k 


J^4  THE    REFUGE, 

beauty,  or  riches,  are  rather  obligations  con- 
ferred upon  us  by  God,  than  merits  in  us 
towards  him:  for  though  we  may  be  justly 
punished  for  injuring  ourselves,  we  can  claim  no 
reward  for  self  preservation  ;  as  suicide  de- 
serves punishment  and  infamy,  but  a  man 
deserves  no  reward  or  honours  for  not  being 
guilty  of  it.' 

^  Can  a  man  be  profitable  to  God,  as  he  who 
is  wise  may  be  profitable  to  himself?    Is  it  any 
pleasure  to  the  Almighty  that  thou  art  righte- 
ous ?  or  is  it  any  gain  to  him  that  thou  makest 
thy  ways  perfect  ?     If  thou  be  righteous,  what 
givest  thou  him,  or  what  receiveth  he  of  thine 
hands  ?   Thy  wickedness  may  hurt  a  man  as  thou 
art,  and  thy  righteousness  may  profit  the  son  of 
man — Who  hath  first  given  to  him,  and  it  shall 
be  recompensed  unto  him  again  ?     For  of  him, 
and  through  him,    and    to  him  are  all  things  ; 
to  whom  be  glory  for  ever — What  hast  thou 
that  thou  didst  not  receive  ?  now  if  thou  didst 
receive   it,    why   dost   thou   glory,   as    if  thou 
hadst  not  received  it  ?'     Instead,  therefore,  of 
attempting  to  claim  the  blessedness  of  heaven 


THE    REFUGE.  85 

on  the  ground  of  personal  worthiness,  it  would 
be  acting  more  in  character  for  a  sinful 
wretch  to  cry,  '  Behold,  I  am  vile  ;  what  shall 
I  answer  thee  ?  I  will  lay  mine  hand  upon  my 
mouth.  Once  have  I  spoken  ;  but  I  will  not 
answer :  yea,  twice  ;  but  I  will  proceed  no 
further — Enter  not  into  judgment  with  thy 
servant :  for  in  thy  sight  shall  no  man  living- 
be  justified.' 

Another  reason  why  good  works  cannot  be 
meritorious,  is  the  vast  disparity  between  them 
and  the  salvation  they  are  supposed  to  merit. 
'  A  natural  work  can  give  no  title  to  a  super- 
natural reward.'  There  must  be  a  just  propor- 
tion between  the  work  and  the  wages  :  if  the 
wages  exceed  the  work,  they  are  so  far  gra- 
tuitous— favours  to  which  we  have  no  claim, 
and  of  course  not  merited.  But  can  the  best 
services  of  a  creature,  depraved  beyond  descrip- 
tion, be  brought  into  comparison  with  the 
debt  he  owes  to  his  Maker,  or  with  that  con- 
summate happiness  which  in  its  duration  is 
eternal  ?  No  ;  it  is  impossible.  '  The  greatest 
human  virtue,'  says  Dr.  Johnson,  ^bearsno  pro- 


86  THE    REFUGE. 

portion  to  human  vanity.'  Nothing  short  of  an 
obedience  commensurate  to  the  requirements 
of  divine  law,  and  to  the  threatenings  of  eternal 
justice,  can  afford  the  sinner  a  well  grounded 
hope  of  that  blessedness  which  it  is  the  glory 
of  God  to  bestow  as  a  gift  ;  but  which  never 
was  conferred  on  any  as  a  debt,  or  as  a  recom- 
pense for  diligence  in  dut3% 

Ascriptions  of  merit  to  man  may  be  the  lan- 
guage of  mortals  on  earth  ;  but  it  is  not  the 
language  of  saints  in  heaven.  Concerning  that 
great  multitude  which  stood  before  the  throne, 
and  before  the  lamb,  clothed  with  white  robes, 
and  palms  in  their  hands,  not  a  word  is  said  of 
their  having  deserved  the  honour  and  the  hap- 
piness to  which  they  were  exalted ;  but,  on  the 
contrar}^,  that  they  themselves  '  Cried  with  a 
loud  voice,  saying,  Salvation  to  our  God  which 
sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb. 
And  all  the  angels  stood  round  about  the 
throne,  and  about  the  elders  and  the  four 
beasts,  and  fell  before  the  throne  on  their 
faces,  and  worshipped  God,  Saying,  Amen. 
Blessing,  and  glory,  and  wisdom,  and  thanks- 


THE  REFUGE.  *  87 

giving,  and  honour,  and  power,  and  might, 
be  unto  our  God,  for  ever  and  ever,  Amen.' 
Not  an  individual  of  that  innumerable  com- 
pany is  heard  attributing  his  deliverance  and 
his  triumph  to  himself — to  the  possession  of 
moral  qualities,  the  performance  of  moral  du- 
ties, nor  yet  to  the  patient  endurance  of  great 
tribulation ;  but  the  reason  given  by  one  of 
the  elders,  why  they  were  before  the  throne  of 
God,  and  serve  him  day  and  night  in  his  tem- 
ple, is  this — '  They  have  washed  their  robes, 
and  made  them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb.' 
The  unanimous  voice  of  the  church  militant 
and  the  church  triumphant  is — '  Worthy  is  the 
Lamb  that  was  slain,  and  has  redeemed  us  to 
God  by  his  blood,  out  of  every  kindred,  and 
tongue,  and  people,  and  nation  ;  and  has  made 
us  unto  our  God  kings  and  priests — Blessing, 
and  honour,  and  glory,  and  power,  be  unto  him 
that  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb 
for  ever  and  ever.' 

I  But  while  it  is  positively  asserted  that  good 
works  have  nothing  to  do  in  the  justification 
of  a  simier  before  God,  it  is  maintained  with 


88  THE    REFUGE. 

equal  confidence,  that  there  are  other  highly 
Important  purposes  for  which  they  are  indis- 
pensably necessary.  The  scriptures  declare, 
that  the  elect  of  God  are  chosen  in  Christ 
Jesus  before  the  foundation  of  the  world — 
that  when  the  time  to  manifest  this  infinite 
grace  is  come,  they  are  called  with  a  holy  call- 
ing, not  according  to  their  works,  but  according 
to  his  own  purpose,  and  grace — that  they  are 
his  workmanship,  created  in  Christ  Jesus  unto 
good  works,  which  God  hath  before  ordained 
that  they  should  walk  in  them. 

That  faith  without  works  is  dead,  is  an 
established  maxim  with  the  christian.  If  there 
be  time  and  opportunity,  every  believer  is 
taught,  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  to  *  maintain  good 
works  for  necessary  uses — to  let  his  light  so 
shine  before  men,  that  they  may  see  his  good 
works,  and  glorify  his  Father  which  is  in  hea- 
ven.' In  this  case,  faith  and  holiness  are  inse- 
parable :  and  it  was  a  conviction  of  the  impor- 
tance of  this  truth  that  induced  the  apostle, 
James  to  ask,  when  writing  to  the  Jewish 
converts,  Was  not  Abraham  our  father  justi- 


I 


THE    REFUGE.  89 


fied  by  works  when  he  had  offered  Isaac  his 
son  upon  the  altar  ?  He  knew  there  was  a  con- 
nexion between  the  faith  of  which  he  then 
spoke  and  moral  duties :  that  it  would  be  as 
congruous  to  expect  grapes  of  thorns,  or  figs 
of  thistles,  as  to  suppose  faith  in  the  heart  un- 
productive of  real  holiness  in  the  life.  It  is 
as  ^  impossible  for  the  sun  to  be  in  his  meri- 
dian sphere,  and  not  to  dissipate  darkness,  or 
diffuse  light,  as  for  faith  to  exist  in  the  soul 
and  not  exalt  the  temper  and  meliorate  the 
conduct.'  Faith,  as  a  divine  principle  in  the 
soul,  purifies  the  heart ;  and  is,  in  fact,  the 
only  source  of  good  works.  The  tree  must  be 
made  good  before  the  fruit  can  be  good.  '  But 
without  faith  it  is  impossible  to  please  God  :' 
and  hence  we  learn  that  Abraham's  faith  was 
prior  to  that  striking  proof  of  filial  obedience 
hich  he  is  said  to  be  justified  ;  and,  there- 
Sfe,  neither  the  cause  nor  the  condition  of  his 
justification. 

In  examining  another  part  of  the  same  chap- 
we   find  the   apostle  asserts,  when    speak- 
iqg  of  the   extent  and  spirituality  of  the  moral 


90  THE  REFUGE. 

law,  *  That  whosoever  shall  keep  the  whole 
law,  and  yet  offend  in  one  point,  is  guilty  of 
all.'  Now  as  Abraham  had,  in  many  instan- 
ces, violated  this  divine  statute  ;  his  works 
could  not  so  justify  him,  as  to  render  him 
guiltless  and  acceptable  in  the  sight  of  God. 
Throughout  the  whole  of  the  apostle's  reason- 
ing there  is  a  beautiful  connexion  and  con- 
sistency. For,  by  reciting  the  affecting  story 
of  Abraham  and  his  beloved  Isaac,  he  has 
shown,  that  by  the  venerable  patriarch's  obe- 
dience to  the  command  of  God,  was  manifested 
both  the  genuineness  and  the  strength  of  his 
faith. 

It  is  an  article  of  the  christian's  faith,  and 
from  which  he  ought  never  to  depart,  that 
God,  for  the  display  of  his  own  almighty  pow- 
er, sovereignty,  and  grace,  does  at  the  last 
hour,  and  perhaps  in  the  latest  moments,  some- 
times snatch  sinners  from  the  very  jaws  of  hell, 
without  any  consideration  as  to  moral  worth, 
of  what  they  have  been,  or  what  they  then  are. 
For  the  glory  of  infinite  mercy,  it  may  proba- 
bly be  said  of  nvimbers  at  the  last  day  as  was 


THE  REFUGE.  91 

said  in  reference  to  the  ancient  Jewish  high 
priest — '  Is  not  this  a  brand  plucked  out  of  the 
fire  ?'  Or  at  least  this  will  be  said  of  him  whom 
the  compassionate  Saviour  took  from  the  cross 
to  the  crown — who  was  introduced  in  triumph 
to  bear  witness  in  heaven,  as  he  had  done  upon 
earth,  that  salvation  is  not  of  works,  but  of 
grace ! 

What  advantage,  it  may  be  asked,  do  those 
gain  over  their  opponents,  who  zealously  main- 
tain that  good  works  are  essential  to  salvation? 
For  whatever  is  essential  to  the  completion  of 
any  purpose  cannot  be  relinquished.  On  this 
hypothesis,  the  salvation  of  the  expiring  thief 
w^as  absolutely  impossible.  He  had  neither 
time  nor  opportunity  to  perform  good  works. 
Impossible  also  must  it  be  to  thousands,  per- 
haps to  millions,  who  have  died,  or  may  die, 
if  not  in  similar  situations,  yet  so  circum- 
stanced as  to  have  no  space  for  amendment : 
and  equally  impossible  to  infants,  more  than 
half  of  whom  die  before  they  are  capable  of 
moral  action.  This  incapacity  may  probably 
be  urged  to  prove,  that,  in  reference  to   them 

I 


92  THE    REFUGE. 

the  cases  are  dissimilar ;  and  that  their  not 
having  committed  actual  sin,  is  a  sufficient 
warrant  to  believe  that  they  are  not  obnoxious 
to  the  divine  displeasure.  But  this 'conclusion 
is  not  just.  The  scriptures  positively  declare, 
that  we  are  by  nature  the  children  of  wrath — 
that  we  are  shapen  in  iniquity,  and  conceived 
in  sin  ;  the  offspring  of  a  degenerate  head,  in 
whom  we  sinned,  and  from  whom  we  derive 
pollution  and  guilt :  and  unless  these  facts  be 
admitted,  it  is  impossible  to  reconcile  the  con- 
duct of  Providence  with  the  oracles  of  truth  ; 
because  death,  which  is  the  wages  of  sin, 
passes  upon  infants,  though  they  have  not 
sinned  after  the  similitude  of  Adam's  trans- 
gression. But  this  would  not  be  the  case — it 
would  be  incompatible  with  divine  goodness 
and  the  tlivine  government,  were  they  not  fe- 
derally connected  with  him,  involved  in  his 
guilt,  and  the  subjects  of  moral  evil.  ^  To 
deny  the  imputation  of  that  offence,  and  yet 
grant,  as  it  must  be,  that  we  suffer  in  conse- 
quence of  it,  necessarily  supposes  that  we  are 
condemned  and  punished,  considered  as  inno- 
cent ;  than  which  nothing  can  be  more  unjust.' 


THE  REFUGE.  93 

But,  were  it  admitted  that  there  never  ex- 
Usted  any  federal  relation  between  Adam  and 
I  his  posterity,  the  difficulty  with  which  the 
subject  is  supposed  to  be  embarrassed  would 
not  be  lessened.  It  is  demonstrable,  as  far  as 
cause  and  effect  can  be,  that  children  are  na- 
turally depraved — ^that  they  are,  without  ex- 
ception, agitated  by  sinful  passions,  long  before 
the  mind  can  possibly  be  influenced  by  exam- 
ple. Nov/,  as  these  passions  must  arise  from 
a  corrupt  principle  latent  in  the  heart,  it  cannot 
reasonably  be  denied,  that  defiled  nature  in 
an  infant  is,  in  its  degree,  as  inconsistent  with 
the  purity  and  felicity  of  heaven,  as  that  which 
;  is  peculiar  to  those  who  have  committed  actual 
transgressions;  and  that  the  comparatively  small 
depravity  of  the  one  will  as  effectually  bar  the 
way  to  blessedness,  as  the  enormous  load  of  the 
other. 

But,  heaven  and  glory  are  not  to  be  obtain-^ 
ed  by  any  of  the  sons  of  Adam,  on  such  con- 
ditions. They  possess  no  moral  qualities  that 
merit  the  divine  favour,  nor  that  fit  them 
to  enjoy   it.      The    gift   of  God  is   eternal  life 


94f  THE  REJUGE. 

through  Jesus  Christ.  Grace  reigns — and  is, 
I  have  no  doubt,  glorified  in  the  salvation  of 
infants :  and  it  will  reign,  and  will  be  glori- 
fied in  all  that  are  finally  saved.  He,  there- 
fore, who  shall  think,  that  because  he  has  lived 
to  augment  his  debt,  he  has  thereby  increased 
his  capacity  for  payment,  will  find  himself  at 
last — more  than  insolvent!  I  am,  said  Jesus, 
the  w^ay,  and  the  truth,  and  the  life  :  no  man 
Cometh  unto  the  Father,  but  by  me :  and  he  that 
shall  presumptuously  attempt  to  climb  to  heaven 
in  any  other  way,  will  be  treated  as  a  thief  and 
a  robber. 

Were  justification  by  works,  either  in  whole 
or  in  part,  what  encouragement  could  I  ad- 
minister to  you,  whose  distress  originates  in  a 
conviction  of  having  none  to  plead  as  a  ground 
of  forgiveness  ?  What  could  he  say  that  is 
called  to  the  bed  of  a  wretched  sinner,  who, 
in  the  prospect  of  death,  is  alarmed  with  a 
consciousness  of  enormous  guilt — of  having 
lived  without  God  in  the  world,  and  of  being 
shortly  to  appear  before  him  as  his  Judge  ?  or 
what  to  the  condemned  criminal  who,  the  next 


I 


THE    REFUGE.  95 


hoar,  is  to  pay  his  forfeited  life  to  the  laws  of 
his  country,  as  the  only  possible  expiation  of 
his    crimes   against   society  ? — He    must  leave 
them  both  a  prey  to  dejection  and  sorrow :  he 
could    not,    consistently  with    his   own    princi- 
ples, say  any  thing  either  to  remove  the  pangs 
of  guilt,  or  to  assuage  the  horrours  of  despair. 
The  hopeless  delinquents  might  each,  in  their 
turn,  adopt  the  expostulatory  language  of  Job. 
'  How  hast  thou   helped  him  that    is    without 
power  ?   how  savest  thou  the  arm  that  hath  no 
strength  ?    how   hast  thou   counselled  him  that 
hath    no    v/isdom  ?      How    forcible    are    right 
words !    but  thou  art  a  miserable  comforter — ' 
a  physician  of  no  value.' 

But  while  it  is  maintained  that  salvation  is 
entirely  of  grace — that  good  works  have  no- 
thing to  do  in  the  justification  of  a  sinner 
before  God — that  dying  infants  are  redeemed 
from  sin  and  all  its  consequences  by  the  blood 
of  Christ ;  and  that  it  is  possible  for  the  most 
notorious  offender  to  be  saved,  even  at  the  last 
lOur  ;  it  is,  at  the  same  time,  affirmed  with 
:qual  confidence,"  ^  That  God  never  intended 
I  2 


96  THE    llEFUGE. 

mercy  as  a  sanctuary  to  protect  sin' — That  this 
doctrine  gives  to  the  sinner,  continuing  in  sin, 
no  reason  to  expect  forgiveness  :  nay,  the  want 
of  an  habitual  disposition  to  keep  the  divine 
commands,  is  unequivocal  proof  of  his  being 
in  a  state  of  spiritual  death,  and  of  his  having 
no  evidence  that  he  shall  ever  experience  the 
blessing  of  pardon.  Divine  grace  is  a  '  vital, 
active,  influential  principle,  operating  on  the 
heart,  restraining  the  desires,  affecting  the 
general  conduct,  and  as  much  regulating  our 
commerce  with  the  world,  our  business,  plea- 
sures, and  enjoyments,  our  conversations,  de- 
signs, and  actions,  as  our  behaviour  in  publick 
worship,  or  even  in  private  devotion.' 

There  are  some,  indeed,  who  *  retire  from 
the  world,  not  merely  to  bask  in  ease  or  gra- 
tify curiosity ;  but  that  being  disengaged  from 
common  cares,  they  may  employ  more  time  in 
the  duties  of  religion :  that  they  may  regulate 
their  actions  with  stricter  vigilance,  and  purify 
their  thoughts  by  more  frequent  meditation, 
To  men  thus  elevated  above  the  mists  of 
mortality,    I    am  far    from    presuming  myself 


THE    REFUGE.  9?" 

qualified  to  give  directions.     On  him  that  ap- 
pears to   pass  through  things  temporary,  with 
no    other    care    than    not   to    lose    finally   the 
things  eternal,  I  look  with  such  veneration  as 
inclines    me    to    approve   his   conduct   on    the 
whole,   without    a   minute   examination   of    its 
parts  -j  yet  I  could  never  forbear  to  wish,  that 
while  vice    is    every   day   multiplying   seduce- 
ments,  and  stalking  forth  with  more  hardened 
eifrontery,  virtue    would  not  withdraw  the  in- 
fluence  of  her  presence,    or  forbear  to   assert 
her    natural    dignity,   by  open  and  undaunted 
perseverance  in   the   right.     Piety  practised  in 
solitude,  like    the   flower  that    blooms   in    the 
desert,  may  give  its   fragrance  to  the  winds  of 
heaven,    and    delight    those    unbodied    spirits 
that  surv^ey  the  works  of  God  and  the  actions 
of  men ;    but    it   bestows    no   assistance   upon 
earthly  beings,  and  however  free  from  taints 
of  impurity,  yet  wants  the  sacred  splendour  of 
beneficence.' 

He   that  is   commanded   to  let   his  light  so 

I  shine  before   men,  that  they  may  see  his  good 
v/orks,  and  glorify  his  Father  which  is  in  hea- 


98  THE  REFUGE. 

ven,    cannot    descend   from     the    conspicuous 
situation     in     which    he     is    placed,    without 
leaving  his   post,   and  incurring  the  charge  of 
cowardice,  if  not  of  desertion.     The  wicked, 
indeed,  flee    when  no  man  pursueth ;   but  the 
righteous  are  bold  as  a  lion.     They  are  to  be 
steadfast,    unmoveable,    always    abounding   in 
the  work    of  the   Lord  :    and  the  man  who  is 
born  of  God,  and  mercifully  reserved  to  bear 
testimony  in  the  world  to  the  riches  of  sove- 
reign grace,  will  demonstrate,  by  his  conduct, 
that  sanctity  of  heart  and  of  life  is  inseparably 
connected.     '  They  that  are   Christ's  have  cru- 
cified the  fiesh  with  the  affections  and  lusts. — 
They  reckon  themselves  to  be  dead  indeed  unto 
sin,  but  alive  unto  God  through  Jesus  Christ. 
The  heavenly  seed,  in  this  case,  cannot  but  be 
productive  of  fruit.     There  are  no  barren  trees 
in   God's  vineyard  ;    or  at  least,  none   of  his 
planting  :  and  even  in   those  persons  who  are 
naturally  incapable,  or  who  have   no   time    al- 
lotted for  demonstrating  the   salutary  effects  of 
divine  culture,  the  same  immortal  principle  is 
implanted ;  the  image  of  Christ  is  stamped  on 
the  soul  ;  and  though  the  impress  be  not  per- 


THE    REFUGE. 


99 


ceptible  to   human  view,   it  will,  nevertheless, 
l^hereafter  appear  with  his  likeness. 

To  be  delivered  from  the  condemnation  and 
Idominion  of  sin  in  the  present  life  ;  to  rejoice 
|in  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  gospel,  and  to 
have  a  conscience  void  of  offence  towards  God 
and  towards  man,  are  privileges  that  the  heirs 
of  glory  ardently  desire  to  enjoy,  and  which 
they  consider  as  the  summit  of  earthly  bles- 
sedness. How  shall  we,  that  are  dead  to  sin, 
live  any  longer  therein  ?  '  He  that  hath  tasted 
the  bitterness  of  sin,  will  fear  to  commit  it  ; 
and  he  that  hath  felt  the  sweetness  of  mercy, 
will  fear  to  offend  it  !' 

As  the  saints  are  made,  through  grace,  heirs 
according  to  the  hope  of  eternal  life,  they  zea- 
lously contend,  and  constantly  declare,  that 
those  who  have  believed  in  God,  should  be 
careful  to  maintain  good  works.  But  then 
that  love  of  holiness,  and  this  zeal  for  the 
honour  of  God,  arise,  not  from  an  expectation 
of  being  justified,  either  in  whole  or  in  part, 
by  their  personal  conformity  to  the  moral  law  ; 


loo  THE    REFUGE. 

but  from  a  heartfelt  conviction  that  these 
things  are  in  themselves  lovely,  as  well  as  good 
and  profitable  to  men. 

The  believer,  like  the  great  apostle  of  the 
gentiles,  'counts  all  things  but  loss  for  the 
excellency  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus  ; 
for  whom  he  can  cheerfully  suffer  the  loss  of 
all  things,  and  reckons  them  but  dung,  that 
he  may  win  Christ,  and  be  found  in  him,  not 
having  his  own  righteousness,  which  is  of  the 
law,  but  that  which  is  through  the  faith  of 
Christ,  the  righteousness  which  is  of  God  by 
faith.'  Like  his  divine  Master,  he  finds  it  his 
meat  and  his  drink  to  do  the  will  of  his  hea- 
venly Father.  But  were  he  to  do  all  that  is 
commanded,  or  that  inclination  or  gratitude 
might  prompt  him  to  perform  ;  yet  would  he 
say,  I  am  an  unprofitable  servant — I  have  done 
that  only  which  it  was  my  duty  to  do.  He 
feels  sin  to  be  his  heaviest  burden,  and  holiness 
his  principal  delight.  He  presses  towards  the 
mark,  for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God 
in  Christ  Jesus  :  anxious  that  he  may  know 
him,  and  the  power  of  his  resurrection,  and 


THE    REFUGE.  101 

the  fellowship  of  his  sufferings,  and  be  made 
conformable  unto  his  death.  He  knows  that 
in  his  flesh  dwelleth  no  good  thing ;  for  to  will 
is  present  with  him  ;  but  how  to  perform  that 
which  is  good  he  finds  not.  He  feels  a  per- 
petual conflict,  between  the  flesh  and  the  spirit, 
that  mars  every  duty ;  which  makes  him  dissa- 
tisfied with  himself  in  every  attainment ;  and 
this  dissatisfaction  and  that  conflict  will  conti- 
nue till  he  be  devested  of  the  body  of  sin  and 
death.  But  when  mortality  is  swallowed  up 
of  life,  then  shall  he  awake  in  the  likeness  of 
him  to  whose  image  it  will  be  his  glory  and  his 
happiness  to  be  eternally  conformed. 

The  followers  of  him,  who  went  about  doing- 
good,  are  taught  to  distinguish  between  good 
works,  which  are  the  fruit  of  divine  grace  im- 
parted to  the  heart,  and  that  expiation  by  which 
forgiveness  is  obtained  at  the  hand  of  God. 
In  all  they  do,  they  act,  or  ought  to  act,  from 
a  principle  of  love.  They  know  that  their 
best  services  constitute  no  part  ot  their  sal- 
vation :  yet  are  they  assiduous  in  the  perform- 
j^ance   of   every  branch   of  duty,  desirous    that 


102  THF    REFUGE. 

they  may  be  '  blameless  and  harmless,  the  sons 
of  God,   without   rebuke,    in  the   midst   of  a 
crooked  and  perverse  generation,  among  whom 
they  shine  as  lights  in  the  world.'    The  practice 
of  virtue    stands  as   a  discriminating  mark    of 
their    being    disciples   of  him  who   was    holy, 
harmless,  undefiled,  and  separate  from  sinners. 
But    in  this  they    have  learned    not  to    glory. 
They  constantly  declare   that  their  endeavours 
to  honour  the   government  and  grace  of  God, 
arise  not  from  depraved  nature,  but  from  the 
law  of  the  spirit  of  life  in  Christ  Jesus,  which 
hath  made  them  free  from  the  law  of  sin  and 
death ;     and    who,   as  their   head,  worketh    in 
them  both  to  will  and  to  do.     It  is  a  sense  of 
continual  dependence  on  his  gracious  influence 
that  keeps   alive    the  sincerest  gratitude  ;  that 
lays  them  in  the  dust ;  which  teaches  them  to 
glory  in  the  Lord  their  strength;  in  whose  name 
it  is  their  privilege  constantly  to  rejoice,  and 
in  whose   righteousness    alone    they    shall    be 
everlastingly  exalted. 

If  the  disciples  of  Jesus  see  others  running 
in  the   broad  way  that  leadedi  to   destruction, 


THE    REFUGE.  103 

tEeir  sorrow  is  excited :  they  attribute  no  me- 
rit to  themselves ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  adore 
the  restraining  and  the  sanctifying  hand  that 
has  made  the  diiFerence — which  has  not  permit- 
ted them  to  wallow  in  the   mire  of  sin,  nor  to 
run  into  the  same  excess  of  riot.     Sin  is   that 
which  the    new  man    created  in   Christ  Jesus 
abhors.     The  follo^vers   of  the  despised  Gali- 
lean are,  like  their  divine  Master,  nevertheless, 
stigmatized  as  friendly  to  sin.     But   it    is   an 
indubitable  fact,  that  he  who  is  bori?  from  above, 
delights  in  the  law  of  God  after  the  inward  man. 
The  uniform  language  of  the  redeemed  on  earth 
is,    '  Blessed  be  t^^  God  and   Father  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  '^^'^^ist,  who  hath  chosen  us  in  him 
befor'^^  ^^^   foundation    of  the^world,    that   we 
'.aould  be  holy  and  without  blame  before  him 
in  love.' 

Should  you  ask,  Are  all  who  profess  the 
name  of  Christ  thus  minded  ?  there  are  who 
will  tell  you,  '  even  weeping'—that  many,  very 
many,  are  otherwise  minded— that  they  mind 
earthly  things— turn  the  grace  of  God  into  las- 
civiousness— trample  on  the  blood  of  the  cove 


104 


THE    REFUGE. 


nant — glory  in  their  shame,  and  are  altogether 
enemies  to  the  cross  of  Christ.  They  name 
the  name  of  Christ,  but  depart  not  from  iniquity : 
they  cause  the  doctrine  of  God  to  be  blasphemed, 
and  his  ways  to  be  evil  spoken  of;  so  that  those 
that  are  without,  become  presumptuous,  and 
are  not  afraid  to  speak  evil  of  the  things  which 
they  understand  not. 

But,  notwithstanding  this  repugnancy  of  prin- 
ciple to  practice,  surely  it  will  be  acknowledged 
that  the  abuse  of  a  doctrine  is  no  proof  of  its 
being  false.  What  truth  of  revelation,  what 
precept  in  morals,  what  ai^  what  science  has 
not  been  perverted  by  either  th^  ignorance  or 
the  obstinacy  of  some  of  its  advocates -i  There 
have  always  been  ^  vain  talkers  and  deceive*, 
who  have  professed  to  know  God,  but  have  in 
works  denied  him  ;'  but,  was  it  ever  concluded 
from  the  inconsistency  of  such  characters,  that 
atheism  was  rational ! 

The  doctrine  of  salvation  by  grace  has  gene- 
rally been  treated  with  contempt  by  men  of  the 
^vorld;  and  has,  indeed,  sometimes  been  abused 


THE    REFUGE.  105 

by  those  from  whom  better  things  might  have 
been  expected.  But  the  notoriously  wicked, 
who  seem  as  if  studious  to  evince  their  having 
no  desire  of  maintaining  good  works,  are  fre- 
quently the  most  clamorous  against  it.  If 
we  are  not  to  be  saved  by  v/orks,  w^e  may,  it  is 
said,  live  as  w^e  list :  v/e  may  sin  that  grace 
may  abound. 

^  Adieu !  Viwosa  cries,  ere  yet  he  sips 
The  purple  bumper  trembling  at  his  lips  ; 
Adieu  to  all  morality  I    if  grace 
Make  works  a  vain  ingredient  in  the  case." 

But  the  conclusion  is  false  :  it  is  a  vile  slan- 
der on  the  conduct  and  character  of  God.  As 
if  he,  in  whose  sight  the  heavens  are  not  pure, 
should  redeem  the  vessels  of  his  mercy  from  all 
iniquity,  in  order  that  they  might  continue  to 
commit  it ;  or  were  to  purify  unto  himself  a 
peculiar  people,  zealous  of  good  works,  with 
a  view  to  their  wallowing  at  pleasure  in  defile- 
ment ! 

^  Loudly  have  opponents  exclaimed,  that  the 
doctrines  of  grace  enervate  the   obligatio  lis   of 


106  THE    REFUGE. 

morality,  by  rejecting  the  claims  of  human 
merit,  by  exhibiting  a  full  and  perfect  atone- 
ment for  all  crimes,  and  by  denying  that  good 
works  are  essential  to  salvation.  But  though 
a  christian  will  not  admit  that  man  can  merit 
any  thing  from  his  Creator,  he  is  far  from  deny- 
ing that  there  are  different  degrees  of  worth 
and  excellence  in  human  characters.  Nor  does 
the  righteousness  of  a  Saviour  imply  any  dis- 
pensation from  the  eternal  and  immutable  obli- 
gations to  virtue,  but  rather  enhances  their 
force,  by  shewing  the  dreadful  effects  of  their 
violation,  and  by  rendering  the  infinite  love 
and  grace  of  their  divine  Author  more  conspi- 
cuous.' It  may  be  said,  without  being  charge- 
ble  with  bigotry  or  presumption,  that  he  who 
shall  venture  to  abuse  the  mercy  of  God,  be- 
cause it  IS  great ;  or  the  grace  of  God,  because 
it  is  free ,  never  felt  his  utter  unworthiness  of 
either  ;  has  never  tasted  that  the  Lord  is  gra- 
cious:  he  is  in  a  state  of  spiritual  death  ;  the 
guilt  of  sin  is  upon  him  ;  and  he  may  rest 
assured,  that  unless  he  so  feel  its  pressure  as  to 
groan  for  deliverance — as  to   hate  the  sin,  as 


THE    REFUGE.  107 

well  as  the  punishment  connected  with  it;  except 
he  experience  a  sincere  love  of  holiness,  and  of 
entire  conformity  to  the  moral  image  of  Christ, 
he  has  no  ground  to  hope  that  he  shall  ever 
awake  with  his  likeness. 

When   we    seriously  reflect   on  the    present 
state  of  man  as  a  moral  agent,  and  as  account- 
able for  his  conduct  to  God,  the  governour  of 
the  world,  it  is,  in   one  view,  astonishing  that 
an  individual  should  be  found  unfriendly  to  the 
doctrine  of  salvation  by  grace.     But,  alas !   so 
blind   and  prejudiced  by  nature   is  the  human 
mind,  that  this   way  of  escape  from    deserved 
ruin,    though    exactly  suited   to   his   wretched 
condition,  and  the   only  means  of  deliverance, 
is  nevertheless  rejected  and  despised.     Christ 
becomes  a  stone   of  stumbling,  and  a  rock  of 
ojfFence ;    and  the   presumptuous  sinner,  going 
about  to  establish  a  righteousness  of  his  own, 
will  not  submit  to  be  justified  by  that  righte- 
ousness which   divine    mercy  hath    graciously 
provided.     To   search   into  the   cause    of  this 
melancholy  fact,  we  must  advert  to  the  primeval 

state  of  our  first  progenitors  :  but  I  have  alreadv 
K  2 


108  THE    REFUGE, 


trespassed  too  long  on  your  patience  :  the  sub- 
ject shall,  therefore,  be  resumed  in  my  next, 

I  am,  &c- 


THE    REFUGE.  109 


LETTER  III. 

Of  man's  first  disobedience,  and  the  fruit 
Of  that  forbidden  tree,  whose  mortal  taste 
Brought  death  into  the  world,  and  all  our  woe. 
With  loss  of  Eden,  till  one  greater  Man 
Restore  us,  and  regain  the  blissful. seat. 
Sing  heavenly  Muse '■■ 


MILTON. 


\J  UR  first  progenitors,  when  recent  from  the 
hand  of  Omipotence,  were  perfect  models  of 
human  excellence,  possessed  a  nature  untainted 
by  sin,  and  capacitated  to  abide  in  the  perpetual 
enjoyment  of  paradise.  But,  alas  :  the  trial  of 
their  filial  obedience  soon  terminated  in  the 
most  heinous  act  of  rebellion.  Their  listening 
to  the  vile  insinuations  of  Satan,  opened  a  door 
for  the  entrance  of  sin,  the  existence  of  which 
was  immediately  evidenced  by  actual  trans- 
gression. Thus  were  their  understandings 
darkened,  their  affections  depraved,  and  the 
condition  on  which  felicity  was  promised, 
completely  violated.    The  loss  of  original  recti- 


110  THE  REFUGE, 

tude  rendered  all  their  future  services  imper- 
fect ;  and,  of  course,  inadequate  to  secure  the 
happiness  formerly  annexed  to  obedience".  Per- 
feet  obedience  and  perfect  happiness  were  inse- 
parably connected. 

But  this   offence    was    not  attended    merelv 
with  a  privation  of  present  happiness :  it  was 
a  forfeiture  of  all  claim  to  future  blessedness. 
Our  first  parents  stood  as  condemned  criminals 
at  the  bar  of  their  beneficent  Creator ;  and  in 
consequence    of    their    detestable    ingratitude, 
became   obnoxious    to  the  punishment   threat- 
ened  in    case   of   disobedience    to    the    divine 
precept.     But  the   evil  did  not  terminate  with 
them.     Adam  stood  as  the  federal  head  of  the 
numerous  posterity  that  should  spring  from  his 
loins  :  they  were  considered  as  one  with   him, 
as  interested  in  his  happiness.     The  forfeiture, 
therefore,  of  God's  favour,  which  was  his  pro- 
per life,  extended  itself  to  all   his  natural  de- 
scendants.    They   were  involved  in  his  guilt, 
and  subject  to  the  same  condemnation.     '  The 
violation   of  that    original    covenant  not    only 
polluted   and  disarranged  the  constituent  prin- 


THE  REFUGE.  Ill 

ciples  of  his  nature,  but  impressed  the  same 
hereditary  stains  on  all  his  descendants,  and 
subjected  the  whole  progeny  to  those  penalties 
which  had  been  incurred  by  its  first  propaga- 
tor.' 

Thus,  Adam,  having  by  transgression,  virtu- 
ally renounced  his  allegiance  to  the  best  of 
sovereigns,  became  the  vassal  of  that  treache- 
rous adversary  who,  by  the  power  of  tempta- 
tion, had  stripped  him  of  all  his  pristine  glory 
and  happiness.  He  forsook  the  standard  of 
his  beneficent  Creator,  and  enlisted  under  the 
banner  of  Satan.  After  his  example  all  his 
posterity  naturally  copy.  They  cheerfully  obey 
the  crafty  dictates  of  the  same  tyrannical  sove- 
reign. It  is  said,  without  exception,  '  They  are 
all  gone  aside,  they  are  altogether  become  fil- 
thy :  there  is  none  that  doeth  good,  no  not  one.' 
They  are  led  captive  by  '  the  prince  of  the 
power  of  the  air,  the  spirit  that  now  worketh 
in  the  children  of  disobedience,'  All  the  pow- 
ers and  faculties  of  the  soul,  and  all  the  mem- 
bers of  the  body,  are  under  his  control,  and 
devoted  to  his  service.     '  God  is  not  in  all  their 


112  THE  REFUGE. 

thoughts — nay,  the  carnal  mind  is  enmity  against 
God :  for  it  is  not  subject  to  the  law  of  God, 
neither  indeed  can  be.' 

It  is  allowed,  indeed,  that  there  is  a  vast 
disparity,  as  to  moral  turpitude,  between  the 
actions  of  individuals.  Some  men,  in  a  compa- 
rative view,  may  be  properly  denominated  vir- 
tuous, and  others  completely  vicious  :  and  the 
number  of  those  is  not  small,  '  who  regulate 
their  lives,  not  by  the  standard  of  religion,  but 
by  the  measure  of  other  men's  virtue :  who 
lull  their  own  remorse  with  the  remembrance 
of  crimes  more  atrocious  than  their  own,  and 
seem  to  believe  that  they  are  not  bad  while 
another  can  be  found  worse.'  Very  different, 
however,  were  the  conclusions  of  the  learned 
and  excellent  Boerhaave,  who  relates,  that  he 
never  saw  a  criminal  dragged  to  execution 
without  asking  himself,  '  Who  knows  whether 
this  man  is  not  less  culpable  than  I  ?'  But  the 
concession  I  have  made  does  not  in  the  least 
militate  against  the  doctrine  of  universal  and 
equal  depravity :  because  every  perceptible 
gradation  of  excellence  arises,  I  presume,  not 


I    ■ •■   .^^ 

^Kfrom  one  man  being  less  corinipt  than  another, 
^^but  from  the  interposition  of  God,  operating 
by  natural  causes,  with  a  view  to  subserve  his 
own  glory  in  the  government  of  a  world  entire- 
ly under  the  dominion  of  sin.  Every  christian 
may  with  propriety  say,  If  I  have  not,  like 
David,  committed  murder  and  adultery  ;  nor 
with  Peter,  denied  the  Lord  that  bought  me, 
it  is  not  because  my  nature  is  less  depraved, 
but  because  I  have  been  either  kept  out  of  the 
way  of  temptation,  or  preserved  from  falling 
by  it» 

The  interposition  of  God  in  restraining  the 
evil  propensities  of  human  nature  is  strikingly 
exemplified  in  the  character  of  Hazael.  After 
Elisha,  the  prophet,  had  answered  the  inquiry 
of  Benhadad  the  king  of  Syria,  he  fixed  his 
countenance  stedfastly  on  the  messenger,  and 
wept.  Then  Hazael  said,  Why  weepeth  my 
Lord  ?  And  he  answered.  Because  I  know  the 
^^'^  that  thou  wilt  do  unto  the  children  of 
Israel ;  4-\^q\y  strong  holds  wilt  thou  set  on  fire, 
and  their  yc^^^g  men  wilt  thou  slay  with  the 
sword,  and  wilt  Jash  their    children  ;  and  rip 


114  THE  REFUGE. 

up  their  women  with  child.  And  Hazael  said. 
But  what,  is  thy  servant  a  dog,  that  he  should 
do  this  great  thing?  And  Elisha  answered.  The 
Lord  hath  shewed  me  that  thou  shalt  be  king- 
over  Syria. 

When  Hazael  heard  the  predictions  of  the 
prophet,  he  was,  I  have  no  doubt,  struck  with 
horrour.  He  never  imagined  that  he  could  be 
capable  of  perpetrating  such  outrageous  acts  of 
barbarity.  But  the  sequel  demonstrates,  that 
the  seeds  of  all  these  atrocities  were  latent  in 
his  nature.  The  Almighty  withdrew  the  re- 
straints by  which  his  depravity  was  bounded. 
The  hour  of  trial  speedily  occurred — the  next 
day  he  murdered  the  king  his  master,  and 
reigned  in  his  stead,  and  afterward,  fulfilled  all 
that  Elisha  had  predicted. 

It  was  said  by  one,  well  acquainted  with  hu- 
man nature,  Let  him  that  thinketh  he  standeth 
take  heed  lest  he  fall.  The  salutary  ca-^^^^ 
is  the  language  of  wisdom  and  be^^-^^^^^^^' 
The  best  of  men,  when  left  to  th'^"^selves,  have 
given    awful  proof  of    the^-    incompetency    to 


THE  REFUGE.  115 

withstand  temptation.  Witness  the  case  of 
Hezekiah,  whom  God  left  to  try  him,  that  he 
might  know  the  corruption  of  his  heart :  and  it 
may  repress  the  vanity  of  selfconfidence  to 
recollect,  that  an  apostle  was,  as  Dean  Young 
expresses  it,  pious  in  the  house,  courageous  in 
the  garden,  and,  in  the  hall,  both  a  coward  and 
a  trait^^r. 

That  the  allwise  Governour  of  the  universe 
is  pleased,  for  purposes  of  his  own  glory,  to 
restrain  the  passions  of  men,  is  clear  from  the 
case  of  Abimelcch  respecting  Abraham ;  and 
also  from  these  words  of  the  psalmist ;  '  Surely 
the  wrath  of  man  shall  praise  thee  :  the  re- 
mainder of  wrath  shalt  thou  restrain :'  and, 
perhaps,  both  these  clauses,  and  also  the  prin- 
ciple on  which  I  reason,  were  never  more  aw- 
fully, nor  more  clearly  exemplified  than  in  the 
character  and  conduct  of  Pharaoh  king  of 
Egypt. 

Man  is  not  only  dreadfully  deprkved,  but  is 
K  said  to  be  without  strength — to  have  no  under- 
Istanding — He   receiveth  not  the   things  of  the 


116  THE   REFUGE. 

Spirit  of  God  ;  for  they  are  foolishness  unto 
him  :  neither  can  he  know  them,  because  they 
are  spiritually  discerned.  '  Nor  is  it  strange 
that  the  natural  man  should  not  discern  the 
things  of  the  Spirit  ^  for,  in  all  other  cases,  a 
simple  perception  can  only  be  excited  by  its 
proper  object.  The  ideas  of  sound  and  colour, 
of  proportion  and  symmetry,  of  beauty  and 
harmony,  are  never  found  in  the  mind,  till  the 
objects,  by  which  these  pleasing  sensations  or 
emotions  are  inspired,  have  been  presented  to 
our  observation.  How  then  shall  we  rightly 
apprehend  the  nature  and  effects  of  communi- 
cated grace,  before  they  are  felt  ?  or  how  can  we 
explain  to  others  sensations  for  which  language 
has  no  words,  and  to  which  the  persons  whom 
we  would  enlighten  have  no  feeling  analogous  in 
their  own  minds  ^ 

The  language  of  the  heart  of  a  natural  man 
to  God  is.  Depart  from  me  ;  for  I  desire  not 
the  knowledge  of  thy  ways.  I  say  the  lan- 
guage of  the  heart ;  because  the  existence  of 
this  diabolical    aversion   is   by  multitudes    pe- 


THE    REI'UGE.  117 

remptorlly  denied.  But  every  act  of  sin  is 
rebellion  against  the  authority  of  God  in  his 
law ;  a  contumacious  disregard  of  the  sanc- 
tions by  which  it  is  enforced  ;  and  while  men 
indulge  themselves  in  criminal  pursuits,  in 
vain  do  they  disown  the  being  of  a  disposition 
hostile  to  the  divine  character.  There  have 
always  been  men  that  have  professed  to  know 
God,  but  who  have  in  works  denied  him :  and, 
while  this  ignorance  and  aversion  continue, 
the  sinner  will  persevere  in  the  paths  of  ini- 
quit}"  and  of  death,  suspecting  neither  danger 
nor  deception.  '  Though  he  walk  in  the  ima- 
ginations of  his  heart,  to  add  drunkenness  to 
thirst,  yet  doth  he  bless  himself  in  his  heart, 
saying,  I  shall  haye  peace.'  Selfiove  flatters 
him  with  undoubted  assurance  of  mercy.  Ima- 
gination pictures  a  God  all  benignity  and  love. 
No  regard  is  paid  to  his  truth  and  his  holiness 
as  rector  of  the  w^orld ;  nor  is  it  remembered 
that  it  is  in  the  nature  of  things  impossible 
divine  justice  should,  without  satisfaction, 
remit  punishment  where  transgressions  are 
committed. 


118 


THE  HEFUGE. 


If  the  deluded  sinner  become  at  all  serious, 
and  the  thought  of  eternity  obtrude  on  his 
reflection,  and  disturb  his  quiet ;  he  purposes 
amendment  of  life,  as  the  most  likely  means  of 
making  God  propitious. 

'  Remorse  begets  reform.    His  master  lust 
Falls  first  before  his  resolute  rebuke, 
And  seems  dethron'd  and  vanquished* — 

This  alteration  of  conduct,  joined  to  the 
mercy  of  God,  will,  he  thinks,  completely  save 
him,  though  it  be  at  the  last  hour.  If,  how- 
ever, conscience  do  her  work  faithfully,  he  is 
exceedingly  alarmed  :  he  begins  to  proportion 
his  diligence  to  his  danger,  '  and  purposes,'  as 
Hawkesworth  expresses  it,  ^  more  uniform  vir- 
tue and  more  ardent  devotion,  in  order  to 
secure  himself  from  the  worm  that  never  dies, 
and  the  fire  that  is  not  quenched ;'  but  until 
convinced  by  the  Holy  Spirit  that  'all  his 
righteousness  is  as  filthy  rags,'  he  is  never 
brought,  even  at  the  last  extremity,  to  reject  his 
own  supposed  moral  worth. 

Such  are  the  views,  and  such  the  principles, 
on  which  the  natural  man  reasons,  v/hen  guilt 


THE    REJUGE.  119 

arrests  the  conscience,  and  the  salvation  of 
his  soul  becomes  a  matter  of  serious  inquiry. 
The  tear  of  sorrow  is  to  purchase  oblivion  for 
the  past,  and  future  reformation  to  merit  the 
felicity  of  heaven.  He  never  considers  that 
the  imperfection  of  his  duties  renders  eternal 
blessedness  in  this  way  unattainable.  But 
when  the  Spirit  of  God  strips  him  of  all  his 
imaginary  excellence,  and  shews  him  that  the 
divine  law  is  spiritual  ;  that  it  requireth  per- 
fect purity  of  heart  as  well  as  of  conduct,  he 
then  sees  that  he  is  indeed  'wretched,  and 
miserable,  and  poor,  and  blind,  and  naked.' 
He  cries,  in  the  anguish  of  his  soul,  What!  will 
nothing  that  I  can  do  entitle  me  to  happiness  ? 
If  so,  '  How  then  can  man  be  justified  with 
God  ?  or  how  can  he  be  clean  that  is  born  of 
a  woman  ?' 


Such  is  the  inquiry  of  an  awakened  soul : 
and  such,  Lavinia,  I  know  is  the  language  of 
your   heart.     While,   therefore,    I    am    endea- 

pring  to  answer  the  inexpressibly  important 
question,  pray  'that  the  God  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  the  Father  of  glory,  may  give  unto 
L  2 


and  I 
l^^your 


120  •  THE  REFUGE. 

you  the  spirit  of  wisdom  and  revelation  in  the 
knowledge  of  him.' 

In  attempting  this,  we  must  return  to  that 
once  happy  paradise,  t\'here  our  first  parents 
forfeited  their  title  to  present  and  to  future 
happiness.  Here,  while  lamenting  over  their 
apostasy  from  God,  we  discover  the  interpo- 
sing hand  of  divine  mercy  extended  to  admi- 
nister relief — to  point  the  way  to  '  a  paradise,' 
as  Witsius  expresses  it,  '  far  preferable  to  the 
earthly,  and  to  a  felicity  more  stable  than  that 
from  which  Adam  fell.  Here  a  new  hope 
shines  upon  ruined  mortals,  which  ought  to 
be  the  more  acceptable,  the  more  unexpected 
it  comes.  Here  conditions  are  prescribed,  to 
which  eternal  salvation  is  annexed  ;  condi- 
tions, not  to  be  performed  again  by  us,  which 
might  throw  the  mind  into  despondency ;  but 
by  him  that  would  not  part  with  his  life  be- 
fore he  had  truly  said — It  is  finished.'  No 
sooner  is  the  rebellion  of  our  apostate  ancestors 
acknowledged,  than  a  Saviour  is  graciously 
promised — '  The  seed  of  the  woman  shall 
bruise  the  serpent's  head.' 


I 


T  HE    REFUGE.  121 

The  promulgation  of  this  act  of  grace  was 
the  effect  of  everlasting  love  :  and  also  a  decla- 
ration of  the  future  incarnation  of  the  Son  of 
God  5  which  incarnation  was,  in  the  first  ages 
of  the  church,  prefigured  by  various  types 
and  shadows,  '  but  is  now  made  manifest  by 
the  appearing  of  our  Saviour  Jesus  Christ, 
who  hath  abolished  death,  and  hath  brought 
life  and  immortality  to  light  through  the  gos- 
pel. In  the  eternal  covenant  of  grace,  all 
things  were  settled  and  provided  for  the  re- 
demption of  man.  '  God  so  loved  the  world, 
that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son,  that  who- 
soever believeth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but 
have  everlasting  life.'  The  divine  Redeemer 
foresaw  the  wretchedness  and  the  ruin  to 
which  the  members  of  his  mystical  body  would 
be  exposed,  in  consequence  of  sin ;  and  in 
order  to  rescue  them  from  this  ruin  and  that 
wretchedness,  he  voluntarily  sanctified  himself 
— or  in  other  words — '  gave  himself  an  offering 
and  a  sacrifice  to  God,  for  a  svveet  smelling 
savour.'  He  most  cheerfully  engaged  as  a 
substitute  for  the  guilty,  and  undertook  to 
redeem  from   death   and  all   its  consequences, 


122  THE    REFUGE, 

the  many  sons  he  was  appointed   to  bring  to 
glorj'. 

In  a  compact  so  characteristick  of  the  Father 
of  mercies,  it  appears,  from  scriptural  repre- 
sentation, to  have  been  stipulated,  that  the  Son 
of  his  bosom  should  take  the  nature  of  man 
into  union  with  his  divine  person  ;  '  that  he 
should,  in  that  nature,  bear  the  sins  of  many — 
be  numbered  with  transgressors — make  his 
soul  an  offering  for  sin — finish  transgression, 
make  an  end  of  sins — make  reconciliation  for 
miquity,  and  bring  in  everlasting  righteous- 
ness :'  and,  as  a  reward  fo^  the  work  he  was 
to  perform  as  Mediator,  his  eternal  Father 
promised,  *  that  he  should  see  his  seed ; 
should  prolong  his  days  ;  should  see  of  the 
travail  of  his  soul  and  be  satisfied  ;  and  that 
the  pleasure  of  the  Lord  should  prosper  in  his 
hands.'  In  consequence  of  his  own  engage- 
ment and  of  this  promise,  the  compassionate 
Savioiu'  saith,  '  Lo,  I  come  :  in  the  volume  of 
the  book  it  is  written  of  me,  I  delight  to  do 
thy  will,  O  my  God :  yea,  thy  law  is  within 
my  heart.' 


THE   REFUGE.  125 

To  accomplish  the  astonishing  work  of  re- 
demption, the  Son  of  God  must  become  incar- 
nate ;  assume  the  nature  that  had  sinned,  and 
in  that  nature  make  complete  reparation  to  the 
law  which  his  people  had  grossly  violated  : 
for,  without  reparation,  no  sinner  covdd  be 
saved.  As  a  transgressor,  he  must  inevitably 
have  perished  ;  or  the  divine  law  have  relin- 
quished its  claim  on  him  as  a  debtor ;  which, 
in  the  very  nature  of  the  case,  was  impossible. 
No  law,  human  or  divine,  founded  injustice, 
and  given  as  a  rule  of  moral  conduct,  can 
dispense  with  a  breach  of  its  commands. 
Were  a  desperate  assassin  to  plunge  a  dagger 
into  the  bosom  of  his  most  inveterate  enemy, 
the  law  of  his  country  would  demand  his  life, 
as  an  atonement  for  the   crime  :    it  could  not 

Bio  otherwise.      It  is  allowed,  indeed,  that  the 
nurderous  villain  might  escape  the  penalty  of 
leath,  by   the    intervention   of   a  pardon  ;  but 
or  this   pardon  he  would  not  be   indebted  to 
the  benignity  of  the  law,  but  to  the  unjust  in- 
terposition of  his  prince.   The  law  would  remain 
invariably  the  same  :   it  must  ever  view  him  as 
a  notorious  transgressor;  and  unless  its  require- 


124  THE    REFUGE. 

ments  be  granted,  or  its  violated  honours  am- 
ply restored,  oppose  all  his  efforts  to  obtain 
liberty  or  to  preserve  life. 

Now  thus  it  stands  with  sinful  man,  re- 
specting the  great  Governour  of  heaven  and  of 
earth.  The  divine  law,  which  was  given  as  a 
rule  of  conduct,  has  been  broken  in  a  thou- 
sAid  instances  ;  and  its  language  to  the  candi- 
date for  eternal  happiness,  on  the  ground  of 
human  worthiness  is.  Pay  me  that  thou  owest! 
— '  Cursed  is  every  one  that  continueth  not  in 
all  things  written  in  the  book  of  the  law  to 
do  them.'  This  demand  is  founded  in  equity, 
and  can  neither  be  evaded  nor  complied  with 
by  tlie  culprit :  he  lies  under  an  arrest  of  jus- 
tice ;  and  unless  the  demands  of  the  claimant 
be  answered  by  the  sinner,  or  his  substitute,  he 
must  remain  perpetually  a  debtor,  and  feel  the 
weight  of  its  sentence  forever.  '  Without  an 
adequate  atonement,'  says  the  ingenious  Black- 
lock,  '  no  sinner  can  possibly  escape  the  hands, 
or  elude  the  awards  of  justice.  But  such  a 
compensation  can  by  no  means  be  given,  if 
the   delinquent's    capacities    of  suffering  be    li- 


THE  REFUGE.  125 

mited,  or  his  station  and  character  of  no  higher 
importance  than  those  of  his  brethren ;  for  the 
malignity  of  moral  evil  is  too  diffuse  and  per- 
manent to  be  cured  by  any  exemplary  punish- 
ment, whose  duration  and  extent  are  circum- 
scribed. Even  penitence  itself  cannot  obliterate 
the  evils  which  it  deplores.  Transgressions 
already  past,  and  recorded  in  the  books  of  hea- 
ven, are  not  to  be  reversed  by  resolutions  of 
future  reformation.  The  purest  virtue  of  which 
human  nature  is  capable,  extends  not  to  the 
sanctity  of  those  laws  which  are  prescribed  for 
its  obedience.  Our  best  actions  demand  the 
exertions  of  mercy  and  forgiveness :  how  then 
can  we  atone  for  them  that  are  bad  ?' 


I 


Let  it,  therefore,  be  remembered,  that  on  the 
ground  of  personal  desert,  no  sinner  can  be 
saved.  This  is  absolutely  impossible :  and 
the  reason  is  obvious.  He  has  violated  the 
divine  precept,  and  no  future  conduct,  how- 
ever exemplary  and  exact,  can  atone  for 
crimes  previously  committed.  ^  The  punish- 
gment  of  vice,^  says  Mr.  Jenyns,  '  is  a  debt  due 
to  justice,  which  cannot  be   remitted  without 


J2G  THE  REFUGE. 

compensation  :  repentance  can  be  no  compen- 
sation :  it  may  change  a  man's  dispositions,  and 
prevent  his  offending  for  the  future  ;  but  can 
lay  no  claim  to  pardon  for  what  is  past.  If 
any  one,  by  profligacy  and  extravagance,  con- 
tract a  debt,  repentance  may  make  him 
wiser,  and  hinder  him  from  running  into 
further  distresses  ;  but  can  never  pay  off  .'his 
old  bonds  ;  for  which  he  must  be  ever  ac- 
countable, unless  they  are  discharged  by  him- 
self, or  some  other  in  his  stead.'  As,  therefore, 
a  continuance  of  happiness  was  conditionally- 
annexed  to  perfect  and  perpetual  obedience 
only  ;  that  happiness  cannot  be  enjoyed  with- 
out entire  conformity  to  the  conditions  on 
which  it  was  promised.  The  scriptures  posi- 
tively assert,  '  that  the  w^hole  world  is  become 
guilty  before  God — that,  by  the  deeds  of  the 
law,  there  shall  no  flesh  be  justified  in  his  sight : 
for,  by  the  law  is  the  knowledge  of  sin.  If, 
therefore,  righteousness  come  by  the  law,  then 
Christ  is  dead  in  vain!' 

But  to  make  this  matter,   if  possible,   more 
pUun.     Let  it  be  considered  that  man  either  is. 


iHE   REFUGE.  127 


or  is  not  dependent  on    God.     If  dependent, 
^^  which  is  the  fact,  for  independence  is  peculiar 
■|  to    Jehovah,    he   must  be  a  subject  of  moral 
^B  government ;    for  no  reasonable    creature    can 
^^B  exist  without  being  subject  to   some    law   ex- 
pressed  or  implied ;     nor    can  there  be  a  law 
without  a  penal  sanction.     This   is  absolutely 
impossible  :     because    the    law    that    requires 
supreme  love  to  any  object  as  a  duty  must,   as 
*  it  cannot  be  framed  on  principles  of  compas- 
sion to  guilt,'    necessarily  condemn  hatred  or 
opposition   to  it  as  a   crime.     If,  therefore,  it 
was    right,    in    the    first     instance,    that    man 
should    love  his   Creator,  and  conform  to  the 
precepts   given  as    the   standard  of  obedience, 
it  must  be  right  to  inflict  the  penalty  annexed 
to  transgression. 


If,  then,  it  be  allowed  that  man  is  account- 
able to  the  Almighty  for  his  conduct ;  that  the 
rule  of  duty  is  founded  in  righteousness;  and 
that  he  has  violated  this  rule  ;  it  is,  I  think, 
demonstrable  that,  if  salvation  by  Jesus  Christ 
be  rejected,  he  must  suffer  the  penalty  of  the 
htw — or,   in   other   words,   he  must   inevitably 

M 


128  THE    R.EFUGL. 

perish.     This  conclusion  appears  to  me  indis- 
putable. 

The  moral  law,  which  is  a  transcript  of  the 
divine  purity,  is,  we  are  told  by  one  well  ac- 
quainted with  its  perfection  and  extent,  sum- 
marily comprehended  in  love  to  God  and  love 
to  man.  It  enjoins  nothing  but  what  is  abso- 
lutely good  in  itself — what  is  adapted  as  much 
for  the  creature's  happiness,  as  for  the  glory  of 
the  beneficent  Creator :  nor  does  it  prohibit 
any  thing  but  what  is  positively  evil — what  is 
naturally  ruinous  to  the  soul  and  body,  as  well 
as  derogatory  to  the  supreme  Governour  of  • 
heaven  and  of  earth. 

Now,  in  attending  to  this  incomparable  law, 
there  is  no  fear  of  excess.  '  In  the  love  of 
God,'  says  one,  '  there  can  be  no  possibility  of 
exceeding,  while  there  is  no  limitation  in  the 
command :  nor  are  we  in  danger  of  loving 
our  neighbour  better  than  ourselves ;  and  let 
us  remember  that  we  do  not  go  beyond, 
but  fall  short  of  our  duty,  while  we  love  him 
less.' 


I 


THE    HEFUGE.  t"2*-3 

The  iioly  and  blessed  God  will  not,  nay,  he 
cannot  absolve  a  rational  creature  from  obliga- 
tion to  the  precepts  of  the  moral  law:  for 
this  would  be  a  practical  declaration,  that 
aversion  from  himself,  and  hatred  of  our 
neighbour,  are  no  crimes.  It  is  therefore  a 
capital  mistake  to  imagine  that  the  righteous 
Legislator  of  the  universe  may,  or  may  not, 
punish  sin.  Punishment  is,  in  this  case,  not 
an  act  of  sovereignty,  but  necessarily  results 
from  the  supreme  perfection  of  God.  Sin  is 
the  abominable  thing  that  his  soul  hateth :  it 
cannot  exist  but  in  opposition  to  the  purity  of 
his  nature  and  the  rectitude  of  his  government. 
While,  therefore,  it  is  suffered  to  remain  in 
his  dominions,  it  must  be  the  object  of  his 
abhorrence  ;  and,  vfhat,  as  Ruler  of  the  world, 
he  cannot  but  punish  either  in  the  person  of 
the  sinner,  or  in  his  substitute.  Were  a  con- 
sidet^ation  of  this  aw^ful  fact  suffered  to  impress 
the  mind  as  it  ought,  we  should  see  our  situa- 
tion to  be  dreadfully  calamitous — that  in  our- 
selves we  are  utterly  undone.  The  necessity  of 
a  Saviour  would  be  at  once  apparent  :  and 
instead   of  attempting  to  extenuate  the  guilt  of 


130  THE   REFUGE. 

Sin,  or  of  cavilling  against  the  infliction  of  punish- 
ment for  it,  we  should  adore  the  wisdom  and 
the  grace  that  devised  and  promulgated  the 
means  by  which  it  is  forgiven. 

It  must  be  obvious  to  him  who  shall  duly 
consider  the  perfection  of  the  divine  nature, 
and  the  rectitude  of  the  divine  government, 
that  the  law  under  which  our  first  parents  were, 
both  as  a  covenant  and  as  a  rule  of  duty,  must 
be  perfectly  fulfilled,  previous  to  the  bestow- 
ment  of  heavenly  blessedness  on  their  apostate 
descendants  :  for  without  such  fulfilment,  this 
blessedness  never  could,  consistently  with  the 
rights  of  holiness  and  of  justice,  be  enjoyed. 
The  law  could  never  remit  its  claim  to  universal 
obedience,  nor,  as  such,  suffer  the  offender  to 
escape  with  impunity. 

It  is,  however,  proper  to  remark,  that  mere 
obedience,  Were  it  absolutely  perfect,-  could 
not,  circumstanced  as  we  now  are,  be  viewed 
as  an  adequate  reparation  for  the  insult  and 
injury  done  to  the  divine  government.  The 
penalty  connected  with  disobedience  must  also 


THE    REFUGE.  131 

be  endured  ;  and  both  in  the  nature  by  which 
it  was  first  dishonoured  :  because  angelick  obe- 
dience to  the  same  commands,  would  not  an- 
swer the  requisitions  of  a  statute  given  as  the 
rule  of  human  duty.  As,  therefore,  we  are  all 
breakers  of  the  divine  law,  and  as  no  future 
conformity  to  its  precepts,  were  it  absolutely 
perfect,  can  compensate  for  this  violation,  we 
are  all  inevitably  undone,  if  not  interested  in 
the  righteousness  and  propitiation  of  Jesus 
Christ. 

Of  the  need  vv^e  stand  in  of  this  propitiation, 

and  of  that  righteousness  there  can  be  no  doubt, 

if  the  remarks  made  on  the  divine  law,  and  the 

divine   government  be  accurate.     By  the   law, 

we  are  told,  is  the  knowledge  of  sin.      By  this 

rule    we   discover   what    is    duty  or,  in    other 

vrords,  what  is  prohibited — what  is  commanded, 

and  the   penal  sanction  by  which  obedience    is 

enforced.     In  the  scriptures  of  truth,  the  fatal 

consequences    of  our  apostasy  from    God    are 

affectingly  described  ;  and  the  plan   formed  by 

infinite  wisdom  and  infinite   goodness  for  our 

delivery  from  eternal  ruin  graciously  revealed. 
M  2 


132  THE    REFUG£. 

So  that  while  we  sorrow  after  a  godly  sort,  we 
are  not  like  those  that  have  no  hope  :  we  have, 
it  is  true,  destroyed  ourselves,  but  in  theXord 
are  our  help  and  our  deliverance  found. 

Cheering,  however,  as  this  delightful  truth 
certainly  is,  yet  it  is  too  commonly  neglected 
or  despised.  Men  are  unwilling  to  think  them- 
selves so  degenerate  as  represented  by  the  sa- 
cred writers,  or  to  believe  there  is  that  intrin- 
sick  evil  in  sin  which  is  constantly  affirmed. 
Hence  the  objections  against  the  spirituality, 
purity,  and  extent  of  the  moral  law — the  sub- 
stitution and  the  atonement  of  Christ  i  and  also 
against  other  glorious  truths  inseparably  con- 
nected with  the  redemption  of  man — ^but  these 
objections  must  be  considered  in  my  next.  Till 
then,  believe  me  very  sincerely, 

Yours,  &c. 


THE  REFUGK.  ISy! 


LETTER  IV. 


— — ^— — Man  disobeying. 

Disloyal  breaks  his  fealty,  and  sins 
Against  the  high  supremacy  of  heav'n. 
Affecting  Godhead,  and  so  losing  all. 
To  expiate  his  treason  hath  nought  left. 
But  to  destruction,  sacred  and  devote, 
He  with  his  whole  posterity  nnust  die ; 
Die  he  or  justice  must;  unless  for  him 
Some  other  able,  and  as  willing,  pay 
The  rigid  fatisfaction,  death  for  death. 


MILTON. 


A  HAT  a  condemned  rebel  should  reject  a 
pardon,  which  exempts  from  sufferings  and  from 
death  ;  that  he  should  ungratefully  treat  with 
ridicule  or  with  insult  the  herald  who  announced 
the  merciful  intelligence,  and  obstinately  choose 
rather  to  run  the  risk  of  escaping  deserved  ruin 
by  his  own  projects,  than  to  accept  deliverance 
by  the  merciful  int'Tposition  of  his  prince,  is  a 
ph^nom:  Qon  in  the  criminal  world,  that  must 
excite  astonishment  and  nonplus  credibility. 


134.  THE    REFUGE. 

But  what  less  do  those  who  disregard  the 
righteousness  and  the  atonement  of  Christ  ? 
who  represent  the  scriptures  that  inculcate  the 
salutary  doctrine  as  absurd,  and  who  presump- 
tuously seek  to  escape  final  perdition  on  the 
ground  of  personal  worthiness  ?  Few,  indeed, 
will  be  found  hardy  enough  to  commend  the 
conduct  of  such  a  contumacious  wretch,  though 
they  manifestly  act  on  the  same  principle.  It 
can  scarcely  be  imagined  that  those  persons  to 
whom  Solomon  (or  rather  Solomon's  antitype) 
has  reference,  were  so  audacious  as  to  declare 
in  so  many  words — ^that  they  paid  no  regard 
cither  to  the  reproof  or  counsel  of  God  :  and 
yet  their  conduct  is  interpretatively  exhibited 
to  shew  that  this  was  the  genuine  language  of 
their  tongues  and  of  their  hearts.  '  Wisdom 
crieth  without;  she  uttereth  her  voice  in  the 
streets ;  she  crieth  in  the  chief  place  of  con- 
course, in  the  openings  of  the  gates  ,  in  the 
city  she  uttereth  her  words,  saying,  How  long, 
ye  simple  ones,  will  ye  love  simplicity,  and 
the  scorners  delight  in  their  scorning;  and  fools 
hate  knov/ledge  ?  Turn  you  at  my  reproof: 
behold,  I  will  pour  out  my  spirit  upon  you,  I 


THE    REFUGE.  135 

will  make  known  my  words  unto  you — Be- 
cause I  have  called,  and  ye  have  refused ;  I 
have  stretched  out  my  hand,  and  no  man  re- 
garded ;  but  ye  have  set  at  naught  all  my 
counsel,  and  would  none  of  my  reproof:  I 
also  will  laugh  at  your  calamity  ;  I  will  mock 
when  your  fear  cometh  ;  when  your  fear  cometh 
as    desolation,    and    your    destruction    cometh  i 

as  a  whirlw^ind ;  when  distress  and  anguish 
cometh  upon  you.  Then  shall  they  call  upon 
me,  but  I  will  not  answer  :  they  shall  seek  me 
early,  but  they  shall  not  find  me  :  for  that  they 
hated  knowledge,  and  did  not  choose  the  fear 
of  the  Lord :  they  would  none  of  my  counsel  : 
they  despised  all  my  reproof.  Therefore  shall 
they  eat  of  the  fruit  of  their  ow^n  v/ay,  and  be 
filled  wdth  their  own  devices.' 

I  know  it  has  been  asked.  Is  not  God  infi« 
nitely  merciful ;  may  he  not  therefore  glorify 
his  name  in  saving  sinners  on  the  ground  of 
mere  mercy  without  the  intervention  of  an 
atonement  ?  If  the  reasoning  in  my  last  be  just, 
certainly  he  cannot — and  this  will  appear  very 
evident,    if  it    be   considered    that  mercy    has 


136  THF    REFUGE. 

regard  to  the   object  as   miserable — not  to  iii» 
guilt,  which  is  the  source  of  his  misery. 

'  To  pardon  sin,  as  an  absolute  act  of  mercy, 
would  be  a  total  neglect  of  holiness,  which  is 
no  more  possible  with  God,  than  it  is  to  put 
forth  acts  of  power  w^ithout  wisdom.  Now, 
the  manifestation  of  divine  holiness,  in  rela- 
tion to  guilt,  can  only  be  in  the  infliction  of 
deserved  penalty.  As  he  cannot  act  pov/er- 
fully  without  the  exercise  of  infinite  wisdom  ; 
%o  he  cannot  act  mercifully  without  manifest- 
ing his  infinite  holiness.  But  to  forgive  sin, 
as  an  act  of  absolute  mercy,  would  not  be  an 
act  of  holiness  ;  and  therefore  no  such  act  of 
absolute  mercy  is  possible  with  God.' 

Besides,  if  an  atonement  for  sin  be  not 
indispensably  necessary  to  forgiveness,  the  in- 
carnation— the  life — the  sufferings — and  the 
death  of  Christ  were  superfluous:  because 
whatever  was  requisite  to  qualify  a  sinner  for 
the  enjoyment  of  heaven  might,  on  this  hypo- 
thesis, have  been  effected  by  the  agency  of  the 
Holy  Spirit.     But,  in  addition  to  thi3  gracious 


THE    REFUGE.  137 

work  of  the  divine  Comforter,  there  are  other 
offices  to  perform.  H^  is  to  take  of  the  things 
of  Christ,  and  show  them  to  the  church:  to 
bring  all  things,  in  reference  to  his  mediation, 
to  remembrance  ;  and  to  apply  his  blood  to  the 
conscience,  which  operations  necessarily  in- 
volve an  atonement.  If  the  way  was  so  short, 
that  by  pure  favour,  without  satisfaction,  sin 
might  have  been  pardoned ;  why,  says  Dr. 
Bates,  should  the  infinite  wisdom  of  God  take 
so  great  a  circuit?. — The  apostle  Paul  sup- 
poses this  necessity  of  satisfaction  as  an  evi- 
dent principle,  when  he  proves  wilful  apos- 
tates to  be  incapable  of  salvation,  'because 
there  remains  no  more  sacrifice  for  sin  :'  for 
the  consequence  were  of  no  force,  if  sin  might 
be  pardoned  without  sacrifice,  that  is,  without 
satisfaction. 

If  Jesus  Christ  satisfied  not  for  us,  says  the 
eloquent  Daille,  what  mean  the  prophets  and 
apostles,  who  proclaim  at  the  beginning,  in 
the  middle,  and  at  the  end  of  all  their  preach- 
ing, '  that  he  died  for  our  sins,  was  wounded 
for  our  transgressions,  and  bruised  for  our  ini-* 


138  THE    REFUGE. 

quities :  that  the  chastisement  of  our  peace 
was  upon  him,  and  b;^  his  stripes  we  are 
healed :  that  his  soul  was  made  an  offering  for 
sin :  that  he  is  our  propitiation,  through  faith 
in  his  blood :  that  he  is  the  Lamb  of  God, 
which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world  :  that 
he  offered  up  himself  a  sacrifice  for  sin,  and 
sanctified  us  by  this  oblation,  and  purged  away 
our  sins  by  himself.' 

There  are  but  three  ways  in  which  a  sinner 
can  hope  to  escape  final  perdition  :  namely,  by 
personal  conformity  to  the  moral  law,  the  ab- 
solute mercy  of  God,  and  the  atonement  of 
Jesus  Christ. 

As  to  the  moral  law,  that  excludes  all  ex- 
pectation  of  blessedness.  '  As  many  as  are 
of  the  works  of  the  law  are  under  the  curse  : 
for  it  is  written,  cursed  is  every  one  that  conti- 
nueth  not  in  all  things  which  are  written  in 
the  book  of  the  law  to  do  them.  But  that  no 
man  is  justified  by  the  law  in  the  sight  of  God, 
it  is  evident:  for,  the  just  shall  live  by  faith. — 
But  all  have    sinned    and    come    short  of   the 


THE  REFUGE.  13§ 

glory  of  God  :  therefore  by  the  deeds  of  the 
law  there  shall  no  flesh  be  justified  in  his 
sight.' 

With  regard  to  the  mercy  of  God,  that,  I 
have  already  observed,  has  relation  to  the  object 
as  miserable — not  to  his  guilt. 

In  reference  to  the  righteousness  and  atone* 
ment  of  Christ,  these  lay  a  solid  foundation 
for  hope.  He  is  *  God's  righteous  servant,  by 
the  knowledge  of  whom,  many  are  justified — 
Him  hath  God  set  forth  to  be  a  propitiation 
through  faith  in  his  blood,  to  declare  his  righte- 
ousness for  the  remission  of  sins — God  was  in 
Christ,  reconciling  the  world  unto  himself, 
not  imputing  their  trespasses  unto  them — 
Christ  was  once  offered  to  bear  the  sins  of 
many — he  put  away  sin  by  the  sacrifice  of  him- 
self— and  unto  them  that  look  for  him  shall 
he  appear  the  second  time  without  sin  unto 
salvation.' 

Your  friend,  Theron,  I  know,  will-  treat  this 
consolatory  doctrine   with   contempt  and  with 

N 


140  THE    llEIVGZ. 

ridicule.  To  suppose,  it  is  said,  that  God  will 
mark  with  rigorous  exactness  the  deviation  of 
his  creatures  from  the  strict  rule  of  duty,  is  to 
impeach  the  divine  goodness — to  represent 
the  Almighty  as  inexorable  and  cruel  ;  espe- 
cially when  it  is  considered  that  human  nature 
is  frail  and  imperfect  ;  that  the  commission 
of  particular  sins  is  only  a  compliance  with 
natural  propensities,  and  which,  therefore,  if 
not  free  from  blame,  cs^.n  never  be  viewed  as 
enormities  of  such  magnitude  as  to  incur  ever- 
lasting displeasure. 

Were  I  to  suppose  that  Theron  might  im- 
pose on  your  simplicity  and  your  candour  by 
*  partial  representations  of  consequences,  intri- 
cate deductions  of  remote  causes,  or  perplexed 
combinations  of  ideas,  which,  having  various 
relations,  appear  different  as  viewed  on  different 
sides  ;  yet  what  must  be  the  event  of  such  a 
triumph  ?  A  man  cannot  spend  all  his  life  in 
frolick  :  age,  or  disease,  or  solitude  will  bring 
some  hours  of  serious  consideration  ;  and  it 
will  then  afford  no  comfort  to  think,  that  he 
has   extended   the    dominion  of  vice,   that  he 


THE   REFUGE.  141 

has  loaded  himself  with  the  crimes  of  others, 
and  can  never  know  the  extent  of  his  own 
wickedness,  nor  make  reparation  for  the  mis- 
chief that  he  has  caused.  There  is  not,  perhaps, 
in  all  the  stores  of  ideal  anguish,  a  thought 
more  painful,  than  the  consciousness  of  having 
propagated  corruption  by  vitiating  principles  ; 
of  having  not  only  drawn  others  from  the  paths 
of  virtue,  but  blocked  up  the  way  by  which  they 
should  return  ;  of  having  blinded  them  to  every 
beauty  but  the  paint  of  pleasure,  and  deafened 
them  to  every  call  but  the  alluring  voice  of  the 
sirens  of  destruction.' 

But  in  the  appeal  which  your  friend  has 
made  to  the  clemency  of  our  beneficent  Crea- 
tor, no  regard  is  paid  to  his  holiness  or  his 
justice  ;  to  his  truth  and  faithfulness  as  the  moral 
governour  of  the  universe.  Considered  in  this 
light,  his  sovereign  authority  must  operate  by 
no  rule,  but  must  bend  to  the  corrupt  passions 
and  inclinations  of  men :  nay,  it  must,  in  fact, 
relinquish  its  claim  to  obedience  ;  and  the 
Maker  of  all  things  become  himself  subject  to 
the  caprice  of  his  own  creatures  ! 


142  THE  REFUGE. 

The  drunkard  thinks  it  hard  that  his  mo- 
mentary intemperance,  which  is  injurious  to 
no  one  but  himself,  should  be  regarded  as  un- 
pardonable indulgence.  The  thief  can  never 
believe  that  his  forcibly  taking  from  others 
what  he  considers  as  superfluous,  in  order  to 
supply  his  own  absolute  wants,  is  a^  crime 
that  calls  for  the  interposition  of  vengeance. 
Thus,  respecting  every  species  of  iniquity,  and 
through  ail  gradations  of  guilt,  each  transgres- 
sor has,  in  his  turn,  a  thousand  argi-ments  to 
plead  in  extenuation  of  his  crimes  :  and  these 
arguments,  if  not  sufficiently  weighty  to  balance 
his  guilt,  ought,  he  thinks,  so  far  to  prevail  as  to 
secure  him  from  final  perdition.  Every  man 
becomes  his  own  judge,  and  imagines  himself 
possessed  of  both  capacity  and  right  to  decide 
in  his  own  cause. 

Now,  according  to  this  hypothesis,  there  is 
no  fixed  standard  of  right  and  wrong.  There 
must  be  as  many  laws  by  which  to  judge,  as 
there  are  individuals  to  be  judged.  The  great 
Arbiter  of  the  universe  can  give  no  award. 
He  has  erected  his  tribunal  in  vain  ;  ard  must 


THB  REFUGE.  143 

either  tamely  acquiesce  in  the  sentence  which 
the  criminal  himself  shall  pronounce,  or  be 
stigmatized  as  a  merciless  tyrant. 

'  If,'  says  a  sensible  writer,  '  the  feelings  of 
every  man's  mind  were  to  be  the  standard  of 
obligation,   what  duty  that  crosses  their  incli- 
nations will  men   perform,   or  what   vice    that 
flatters  them  will  they  forego,  for  the  sake  of 
what  others  call  reason,  and  in  deference  to  an 
equivocal   authority    arising  from   what  philo- 
sophy   itself,   which    hath   talked   most   loudly 
about  this  authority,  hath  not  agreed  to  give 
any  name   or   definition   to  ?     For  every  man's 
own  feeling,  that  is,  his   inclination,  will  be  his 
standard  of   duty,    without   a    settled    law    to 
which  to  appeal,  a  fixed  and  decisive  criterion 
of  good  and  evil,  in  spite  of  all  the  fine  things 
that  have  been  said  on  the  beauty  of  virtue — 
fitness    and    unfitness — the     moral   sense — and 
all 

— '^  which  Theocles  in  raptur'd  vision  saw/ 

When  men  of  this  description  are  told   of 
their   situation    and   their   danger,   nothing   is 
N  2 


144  THE   ni:iuc.?:. 

more  common  than  for  them  to  reply,  God  is 
merciful;  but  *this,'  as  an  ingenious  writer 
expresses  it,  ^  is  a  false  and  fatal  application  of 
a  divine  and  comfortable  truth.  Nothing  can 
be  more  certain  than  the  proposition,  nor  more 
delusive  than  the  inference.  The  truth  is,  no 
one  does  truly  trust  in  God,  who  does  not 
endeavour  to  obey  him.  For  habitually  to  break 
his  laws,  and  yet  to  depend  on  his  favour ;  to 
live  in  opposition  to  his  will,  and  yet  in  expec- 
tation of  his  mercy  ;  to  violate  his  commands, 
and  yet  look  for  his  acceptance,  would  not, 
in  any  other  case,  be  thought  a  reasonable 
course  of  conduct ;  and  yet  it  is  by  no  means  as 
uncommon  as  it  is  inconsistent. 

'  But  the  life  of  a  dissipated,  or  rather  a 
nominal  christian,  r.eems  to  be  a  perpetual 
struggle  to  reconcile  impossibilities ;  it  is  an 
endeavour  to  unite  what  God  has  for  ever  sepa- 
rated, peace  and  sin  ;  unchristian  practices  with 
christian  observances  ;  a  quiet  conscience  and 
a  disorderly  life  ;  a  heart  full  of  this  vvorld 
and  an  unfounded  dependence  on  the  happiness 
of  the  next.' 


THE    REFUGE.  145 

That  Lill  attempts  to  separate  what  God  has 
joined  together  are  as  impious  as  they  are  vain 
you  need  not  be  told.     '  Christianity  must  be 
embraced  entirely,  if  it  be  received  at  alL     It 
must  be  taken   without   mutilation,   as   a  per- 
fect  scheme,   in  the    way  in    which    God    has 
been   pleased   to    reveal    it.      It   must   be    ac- 
cepted,  not  as  exhibiting  beautiful   parts,   but 
as  presenting  one  consummate  whole,  of  which 
the  perfection  arises  from   coherence  and  de- 
pendence, from  relation  and  consistency.     Its 
power   w^ill  be   weakened  and   its    energy  de- 
stroyed,  if  every   caviller  pulls  out   a  pin,    or 
obstructs    a     spring,    with    the    presumptuous 
view  of  new   modelling  the  divine   work,  and 
making   it  go   to  his  own  mind.     There  is  no 
breaking  this  system    into    portions    of  which 
we  are   at   liberty   to   choose    one,   and  reject 
another.     There  is  no  separating  the  evidence 
from  the  doctrine  ;  the  doctrines  from  the  pre- 
cepts ;    belief  from    obedience  ;  morality  from 
piety  ;  the  love  of  our  neighbour  from  the  love 
of  God.     If  we  profess  Christianity    at  all,    if 
we  allow  the  divine  Author  to  be  indeed  unto 
us  wisdom  and  righteousness,  he  must  be  also 
anctification  and  redemption.' 


san 

■ 


146  THE  REFUGE. 

That  all  appeals  to  the  absolute  mercy  of 
God,  unconnected  with  his  holiness  and  his 
justice,  are  not  only  fallacious,  but  impious  in 
the  extreme,  and  as  inconsistent  with  the  first 
principles  of  justice  as  they  are  repugnant  to 
the  oracles  of  truth,  is  demonstrable.  If  sin 
be  really  hateful  to  God,  and  incompatible 
with  the  perfect  purity  of  his  nature  ;  if  it  be 
inimical  to  the  happiness  of  the  universe  ;  the 
source  of  all  the  misery  felt  on  earth  or  expe- 
rienced in  hell  ;  and  a  transgression  of  a  law 
that  is  denominated  holy,  and  just,  and  good  ; 
surely  it  cannot  be  unjust  to  punish  it!  The 
penal  sanction  of  the  law,  as  recorded  by  an 
apostle,  runs  thus  :  Cursed  is  every  one  that 
continueth  not  in  all  things  written  in  the 
book  of  the  law  to  do  them.  Now  this  awful 
sanction  is  just,  or  it  is  not:  if  it  be  just,  it 
cannot  be  unrighteous  to  enforce  it;  if  it  be 
not  perfectly  equitable,  it  was  an  act  of  injus- 
tice to  appoint  it.  One  of  these  consequences 
must  follow. 

Was  the  divine  Lawgiver  sincere,  I  ask  ; 
did  he  or  did  he  not  mean  what  he  said  when 
he  prohibited  sin,  and  annexed  a  penalty  to  the 


IHE    REFUGE.  l^T 

precept  ?  If  sincere,  If  really  in  earnest,  his 
truth,  in  case  of  transgression,  stands  engaged 
to  inflict  the  punishment  incurred. 


'  If  God,  like  man,  his  purpose  could  renew, 
His  laws  could  vary  or  his  plans  undo  ; 
Desponding  faith  would  droop  its  cheerless  wing, 
Religion  deaden  to  a  lifeless  thing : 
Where  could  we,  rational  repose  our  trust, 
But  in  a  power  immutable  as  just?' 


To  suppose,  that  he  who  is  emphatically 
styled  the  true  and  faithful  witness,  should 
bear  testimony  to  a  falsehood — should  be  guilty 
of  such  duplicity  as  would  stamp  infamy  on 
the  character  of  a  man,  is  shocking — is  blas- 
phemy. '  God  is  not  a  man,  that  he  should 
lie  ;  neither  the  son  of  man,  that  he  should 
repent :  hath  he  said,  and  shall  he  not  do  it  ? 
or  hath  he  spoken,  and  shall  he  not  make  it 
good  ?  Righteousness  and  judgment  are  the 
habitation  of  his  throne  :  he  will  judge  the 
world  in  righteousness,  and  the  people  with  his 
truth.' 


That  the  m.ercy  of  God  is  great,  even  from 
everlasting  to  everlasting,  upon  them  that  fear 


148  THE    REFUGE. 

him,  is  a  delightful  truth.  But  this  mercy  is 
not  manifested  in  a  way  that  has  the  least  ten- 
dency either  to  countenance  or  to  extenuate 
the  malignant  nature  of  sin  ;  but  in  a  way  that 
exhibits  the  infinite  wisdom  and  benevolence 
of  God — that  evinces  the  purity  of  his  nature 
and  the  rectitude  of  his  government.  '  God 
was  in  Christ,  reconciling  the  world  unto  him- 
self, not  imputing  their  trespasses  unto  them.' 
The  saints  are  said  to  be  ^  blessed  with  all 
spiritual  blessings  in  Christ ;  in  whom  they 
have  redemption  through  his  blood,  the  forgive- 
ness of  sins,  according  to  the  riches  of  his 
grace,  and  are  made  accepted  in  him  the  be- 
loved,' In  the  cross  of  Christ,  mercy  and  truth 
are  met  together  ;  righteousness  and  peace 
have  kissed  each  other.  Here  we  behold,  with 
astonishment  and  with  gratitude,  the  just  God 
and  the  Saviour  !  and  he  that  shall  hope  for 
mercy  in  any  other  way,  will  find  that  he  has 
deceived  his  own  soul  ;  ^  for'  there  is  salvation 
in  no  other,  nor  any  other  name  under  heaven, 
given  among  men,  whereby  we  must  be  sa» 
ved,' 


THE    REFUGE.  149 

This,  however,  is   a  way  of  saving   sinners 
that  mortifies  the  pride  of  man.     It  implicates 
him  in    extreme     depravity,    and    abominable 
guilt :   it  strips  him  of  all  his  supposed    excel- 
lency, and  in  the  grand  article  of  justification 
before   God,  places   him    on   a  level  with   har- 
lots,   publicans,    and  profligates.     It  attributes 
nothing  to   great  natural    abilities,  shining  ta- 
lents, eminence  in  science,  philosophy,  or  lite- 
rature— to    the   possession  of  immense  riches, 
extensive   influence,  or   the    pomp    of  princely 
magnificence  :    these  are   adventitious   circum- 
stances  that  have  no  influence  in  the  momen- 
tous transaction.     Though  charity  have  found- 
ed   a  thousand  hospitals,    erected   a  thousand 
edifices    for   benevolent    purposes,     and    sup- 
plied the  wants  of  millions,  she  cannot   com- 
mute for  one  sin,  nor  by  these  acts  of  splendid 
munificence,  contribute  any  thing  to   facilitate 
acceptance  v/ith  God.  No  moral  worth,  though 
the  only  thing  that  stamps  intrinsick  value  on 
any  character,  and  one   grain  of  which  is  ten 
thousand    times    more    excellent   than    all   the 
elegant  accomplishments,   or  the  useful  acqui- 
sitions   ascribed  to  man,  can  plead  a   right  to 


150  THE    REFUGE. 

share  the  inestimal)le  blessing.  These  arc  not 
actions,  nor  qualities  for  Avhich  apostate  men  arc 
raised  to  the  dignity  of  sons  of  God,  and  made 
heirs  of  an  everlasting  kingdom.  Honours 
and  privileges  like  these,  claim  a  divine  origin; 
nor  will  he  that  shall  happily  experience  the 
unutterable  felicity,  either  here  or  hereafter, 
hesitate  to  sing  with  the  church  triumphant — 
'  Unto  him  that  loved  us,  and  washed  us  fronfi 
our  sins  in  his  own  blood,  and  hath  madd^^is 
kings  and  priests  unto  God  and  his  Father, 
to  him  be  glory  and  dominion  for  ever  and  ever. 
Amen.' 

Salvation  is  a  gift  freely  bestowed  on  man, 
not  as  deserving  it — not  as  being  merited  by 
the  performance  of  certain  duties,  but  as  a 
grant  of  absolute  grace  through  Christ.  The 
praise,  the  honour,  and  the  glory  belong  to 
him — not  to  the  sinnner :  and  the  invaluable 
blessing  must  be  received,  if  received  at  all,  as 
that  for  which  the  recipient  has  paid  no  equiva- 
lent, performed  no  stipulations — as  a  gift  gratui- 
tously conferred  on  a  wretch  that  deserves  t« 
perish. 


THE  REFUGE.  151 

This  is  a  way  of  deliverance  from  eternal 
ruin  that  is  honourable  to  all  the  perfections  of 
God,  exactly  suited  to  the  abject  condition  of 
man,  and  without  which  he  must  inevitably 
perish.  But  though  it  be  so  completely  fitted 
to  expiate  his  guilt,  to  relieve  his  wretchedness, 
and  restore  him  to  purity  and  to  happiness ;  yet 
the  methods  that  infinite  wisdom  has  adoped 
to  effect  it  are  so  degrading  to  human  pride, 
so  diametrically  opposite  to  the  ideas  men 
entertain  of  their  own  dignity  and  virtue,  that 
it  is  frequently  either  wholly  neglected  or 
treated  with  scorn. 

It  may,  perhaps,  be  asked.  Is  it  not  unwar- 
rantably censorious  to  ascribe  dislike  to  this 
way  of  salvation  to  the  pride  of  man  ?  But  to 
what  else  can  it  be  attributed  ?  I  appeal  to  the 
candour  of  those  who  oppose  the  salutary  truth, 
and  ask,  whether  they  do  not  really  think 
that  there  is  something  in  their  virtue  and 
their  piety  which  God  must  regard,  and  for 
which  he  will  be  finally  propitious  ?  Now,  if 
this  be  the  crse,  the  doctrine  of  mere  grace 
must  of  course  be  viewed  with  a  frowning  aspect, 

o 


152  TtlE  REFUGE. 

because  it  indicates  total  depravity — entire 
helplessness  :  it  resists  all  claims  to  merit,  and 
excludes  every  degree  of  regard  to  human  excel- 
lence :  it  proceeds  on  a  supposition  of  there  be- 
ing nothing  good  in  man,  which  is  a  degrading 
fact  that  is  not  credited.  It  is,  therefore,  quite 
natural  for  men  with  such  sentiments,  to  explode 
I  the  doctrine   altogether ;  and  it  would  be  con- 

sistent and  honourable,  frankly  to  acknowledge 
that,  in  opposing  it,  the  principles  of  selfimpor- 
tance  did  imperceptibly  operate,  and  that  there- 
fore, it  is  no  breach  of  christian  charity  to  attri- 
bute aversion  from  it  to  the  influence  of  these 
principles. 

The  doctrine  of  the  cross  has  ever  been,  to 
them  that  perish,  foolishness.  The  ancient 
Jews  required  a  sign,  and  the  learned  Greeks 
sought  after  wisdom  :  Christ  became  to  both 
a  stumbling  stone  and  rock  of  offence.  He 
was  beheld  as  a  root  out  of  dry  ground  ;  as 
having  no  form  nor  comeliness  ;  no  beauty  to 
render  him  desirable.  The  means,  when  com- 
pared with  the  end,  appeared  hateful  to  the 
Jew,  and  absurd  to  the  Greek  ;    bat  to   them 


THE   REIUGF.  153 

that  believed,  '  both  Jews  and  Greeks,  Christ 
became  the  power  of  God  and  the  wisdom  of 
God.' 

It  is  a  lamentable  fact,  that  the  generality 
of  those  persons  who  are  perpetually  talking 
of  the  mercy  and  goodness  of  God,  are  very 
far  from  being  eminent  for  sanctity  of  life.  It 
should  seem,  therefore,  from  this  circumstance, 
that  there  is  a  strong  propensity  to  believe, 
either  that  sin  is  not  so  hateful  as  represented, 
or  that  the  Almighty  will  not  finally  punish 
it.  But  this  is  an  awful  deception.  '  He  is 
not  a  God  that  hath  pleasure  in  wickedness  ; 
neither  shall  evil  dwell  with  him.'  It  is  a  fact 
— an  incontestable  fact,  '  that  God  is  angry 
with  the  wicked  every  day — that  he  will  by 
no  means  clear  the  guilty.'  That  the  soul 
that  sinneth  shall  die,  is  the  irrevocable  decree 
of  heaven.  Men  may  attempt  to  extenuate 
the  turpitude  of  their  own  actions,  and  '  blegs 
themselves  in  their  hearts,  saying.  We  shall 
have  peace,  though  we  w^alk  in  the  imagina- 
tions of  our  hearts,  to  add  drunkenness  to  thirst: 
but  the  Lord  will  not  spare  them— .-He  will  ren- 


154  THE  RErUGE, 

der  to  them  that  are  contentious,  and  obey  not 
the  truth,  but  obey  unrighteousness,  indigna- 
tion and  wrath,  tribulation  and  anguish,  upon 
every  soul  of  man  that  doth  evil,  of  <he  Jew 
iirst,  and  also  of  the  Gentile.' 

The  profane  scoffer  may  walk  after  his  own 
lusts,  and  insultingly  ask,  in  the  language  of 
similar  characters  of  old,  '  Where  is  the  pro- 
miste  of  his  coming  ?  for  since  the  fathers  fell 
asleep,  all  things  continue  as  they  were  from 
the  beginning  of  the  creation — Let  him  make 
speed,  and  hasten  his  work  that  we  may  see  it; 
and  let  the  counsel  of  the  Holy  One  of  Israel 
draw  nigh  and  come,  that  we  may  know  it ! — 
But  the  Lord  is  not  slack  concerning  his  pro- 
mises, as  some  men  count  slackness — he  will 
be  exalted  in  judgment,  and  God  that  is  holy, 
sanctified  in  righteousness.'  Whatever  the  in- 
corrigible sinner  may  think,  his  '  damnation 
slumbereth  not — the  day  of  his  calamity  is  at 
hand,  and  the  things  that  shall  come  upon 
him  make  haste.'  Divine  justice  is  not  asleep, 
but  watchful.  The  Lord  is  a  God  of  know- 
ledge, and  by  him  actions   are  weighed — His 


THE  REFUGE.  155 

eyes  are  in  every  place,  beholding  the  evil  and 
the  good ;  '  Whence  it  is  evident,  that  God  not 
only  can  know,  if  he  will,  but  likewise  that  he 
actually  wills  to  know  all  that  we  do.'  He  is 
a  Judge  '  infinitely  wise,  and  infinitely  pow- 
erful ;  whom  the  sinner  can  neither  deceive, 
escape,  nor  resist.'  Not  a  word,  not  a  thought 
eludes  his  notice.  All  deviations  are  faith- 
fully recorded  ;  and  a  tribunal  erected  where, 
as  one  expresses  it,  the  proofs  for  conviction 
are  ready  to  produce,  the  evidence  unexcep- 
tionable, and  the  awards  of  justice  exactly 
proportioned  to  the  guilt.  Though  '  ihe  adul- 
terer wait  for  the  twilight,  and  disguise  him- 
self,' yet  shall  he  not  avoid  detection :  '  the 
hidden  things  of  darkness  shall  be  brought  to 
light:  for  there  is  nothing  covered,  that  shall 
not  be  revealed  ;  neither  hid,  that  shall  not  be 
known.  Whatsoever  has  been  spoken  in  dark- 
ness shall  be  heard  in  the  light ;  and  that  which 
has  been  spoken  in  th||liPj^-elosets,  shall  be 
proclaimed  upon  the  house  tops.' 

'  That  dreadful  evil,  which,  with  equal  force 
and    propriety,    is    called    the    second    death, 
o  2 


156  THE  REFUGE. 

should  not,  surely,  be  disregarded,  merely  be- 
cause it  has  been  long  impending ;  and  as 
there  is  no  equivalent  for  which  a  man  can 
reasonably  determine  to  suffer,  it  cannot  be 
considered  as  the  object  of  courage.  How  it 
may  be  born  should  not  be  the  inquiry  ;  but 
how  it  may  be  shunned.  And  if,  in  this  da- 
ring age  it  is  impossible  to  prepare  for  eternity, 
without  giving  up  the  character  of  a  hero,  no 
reasonable  being,  surely,  will  be  deterred  by 
this  consideration  from  the  attempt ;  for  who 
but  an  infant,  or  an  idiot,  would  give  up  his 
paternal  inheritance  for  a  feather,  or  renounce 
the  acclamations  of  a  triumph  for  the  tinkling  of 
a  rattle  ?' 

The  truth  is,  all  men  by  nature  possess  a 
radical  aversion  to  the  government  of  God. 
They  practically  say  concerning  him,  as  the 
Jewish  nation  did  of  Christ,  We  will  not  have 
this  man  to  reign  over  us  :  and  the  reason  is 
obvious  :  his  word,  like  that  of  the  prophet 
to  the  king  of  Israel,  never  speaks  good  to  them, 
but  always  evil.  There  is,  therefore,  a  perpe- 
tual contest  between  him  and  them  for  sove- 


THE   REFUGE.  157 

reign  dominion  ;  or,  as  Charnock  expresses  It, 
'  Whose  will,  and  whose  authority  shall  stand.' 
As  rector  of  the  world,  he  has  enacted  a  law 
worthy  of  infinite  wisdom,  and  of  infinite  bene- 
volence ;  that  is  adapted  to  promote  the  divine 
glory  and  the  happiness  of  man.  But  this  law, 
since  the  fall,  though  supremely  excellent  in 
itself,  is  so  repugnant  to  the  propensities  of 
depraved  nature,  that  it  is  constantly  opposed ; 
is  represented  as  rigorous  and  cruel;  as  not 
suited  to  man  in  his  present  circumstances  ;  and, 
therefore,  Incompatible  with  the  benignity  of 
God.  The  heavenly  statute  is  treated  as  an 
obsolete  rule,  and  the  will  of  perverse  mortals 
set  up  as  the  standard  of  duty;  or  at  least  the 
authority  of  the  divine  Legislator  in  the  law,  is 
trampled  on  without  regret,  and  the  vilest  atro- 
cities frequently  committed  without  remorse 
and  without  shame. 

Let  it,  however,  be  remembered,  that  one 
grand  end  of  the  incarnation,  the  sufferings, 
and  the  death  of  Christ,  was  to  honour  the 
divine  government.  The  objects  whom  he 
came  to  redeem,  were  violators  of  the  lav/  of 


158  THE    REFUGE. 

God,  and  subject  to  its  curse.  As  delinquents, 
it  had  a  legal  claim  upon  them ;  which  claim 
was  a  bar  to  bestowment  of  happiness.  In  order, 
therefore,  to  remove  this  impediment,  he,  as 
their  surety,  conformed  to  all  its  precepts  in  his 
life,  and  suffered  its  penalty  in  being  made  sin 
and  a  curse  for  them  in  his  death.  Now  Christ, 
in  bearing  this  curse,  practically  declared,  both 
to  angels  and  to  men,  that  the  law  which  de- 
nounced it  is  holy,  and  the  commandment  holy, 
and  just,  and  good  ;  that  the  persons  for  whom 
he  died,  deserved  to  suffer  its  penalty;  and  that 
they  could  not,  consistently  with  the  honour  of 
the  divine  government,  possess  the  kingdom 
prepared  for  them  till  this  curse  was  entirely 
removed. 

If  the  purity  and  perfection  of  the  law  of 
God  be  not  fully  admitted  ;  if  the  curse  it  pro- 
nounceth  on  the  sinner  be  not  strictly  equita- 
ble, the  death  of  Christ,  as  an  expiatory 
sacrifice,  was  the  most  unjust,  and  the  most 
cruel  event  that  heaven  or  earth  ever  witness- 
ed !  What  need  was  there  for  such  an  expia- 
tion,  if  ir.an  could  have   been   saved   without 


THE    REFUGi:.  159 

it  ?  To  imagine  that  the  Father  of  mercies  re- 
quired the  death  of  his  own  Son  to  atone  for 
crimes  which  the  law  could  not  righteously 
punish,  or  which  could  have  been  remitted  in 
a  way  less  rigorous,  is  such  an  impeachment  of 
the  divine  wisdom,  and  the  divine  goodness  as 
excites  horrour. 

But  the  period  is  swiftly  approaching,  when 
all  the  impious  cavils  of  men  wall  be  effectxi- 
ally  silenced  :  when  it  shall  be  made  manifest 
that  the  government  of  God  is  according  to 
truth,  ^  Think  not,'  said  Christ,  '  that  I  am 
come  to  destroy  the  law^,  or  the  prophets :  I 
am  not  come  to  destroy,  but  to  fulfil :  nor  shall 
one  jot,  or  one  tittle  pass  from  the  law  till  all 
be  fulfilled.'  A  day  is  appointed  of  God,  in 
the  which  he  will  judge  the  world  in  righteous- 
ness, by  that  Man  who  died  to  maintain  the 
rights  of  divine  justice.  For  the  Father  judg- 
eth  no  man,  but  hath  committed  all  judgment 
unto  the  Son ;  that  all  men  should  honour  the 
Son,  even  as  they  honour  the  Father.  And 
who  so  fit  to  vindicate  the  divine  government, 
or  to  administer  divine  justice,  as  he  who  vo- 


160  THE  ^EfUGF. 

voluntarily  laid  clotvn  his  life  in  obedience  to  that 
lavi^  which  thousands  wantonly  contemn,  but  by 
which,  however  reluctant,  they  must  finally  be 
judged  ? 

It  has  been  supposed,  that  one  reason  among 
others,  for  which  a  judgment  day  is  appointed, 
is  for  putting  honour  on  the  Son  of  God.  '  It 
is  highly  proper,'  says  the  ingenious  Dr.  Smith, 
'  that  thi$  holy  and  divine  person,  who  was  buffet- 
ed and  affronted,  condemned  and  crucified  by 
an  ungrateful  and  injurious  world,  should  now 
judge  his  judges,  and  be  as  far  advanced  above 
the  pinnacle  of  human  greatness  as  he  was  once 
below  it.  It  is  fit  that  Herod  may  see  that  he 
persecuted,  not  the  infant  king  of  a  petty  pro- 
vince, but  the  sovereign  of  angels  and  of  men ; 
and  that  Pilate  and  the  Jews  may  be  convinced^ 
that  he  whom  they  called  a  King  in  scorn,  h 
really  a  greater  emperour  than  Csesar.' 

I  am  yours,  &:c. 


T&E    REFUGE.  161 


LETTER  V. 


-  be  thou  ia  Adam's  room 


The  head  of  all  mankind,  though  Adam's  son. 
As  in  him  i)erish  all  men,  so  in  thee. 
As  from  a  second  root ,  shall  be  restored 
As  many  as  are  restored ;  without  thee  none. 
His  crime  makes  guilty  all  his  sons;  thy  merit 
Imputed  shall  absolve  them  who  renounce 
Their  own  both  righteous  and  unrighteous  deeds. 
And  live  in  thee  transplanted,  and  from  thee 

Receive  new  life. ■    ■ 

MILTON. 


XTAVING  sent  you  in  my  last,  a  few  re- 
marks on  some  of  the  objections  raised  against 
the  perfection  and  extensive  demands  of  the 
moral  law,  the  righteousness  and  atonement  of 
Christ ;  I  shall  now  proceed  to  state  more  fully 
how  the  astonishing  work  of  man's  redemption 
was  effected. 

What  I  have  already  said  concerning  the 
apostasy  of  man,  the  corruption  of  his  nature,- 
his  aversion  from  God,  and  his  utter  inability 
to  rescue  himself  from   deserved  ruin,  will,   I 


162  THE    REFUGE. 

trust,  evince  the  absolute  need  in  which  we 
stand  of  a  Mediator,  or  as  Job  expresses  it.  Of 
a  daysman,  who  can  lay  his  hands  on  both 
parties — the  offender  and  the  offended — And 
It  is  our  happiness  that  the  Son  of  God  viewed 
us  in  this  helpless  condition  ^  that  in  order  to 
snatch  us  from  a  situation  which  involved  per- 
petual destruction,  he  graciously  took  on  him 
— ^  Not  the  nature  of  angels,  but  the  seed  of 
Abraham ;  and  was  made  in  all  things  like 
unto  his  brethren,  that  he  might  be  a  merci- 
ful and  faithful  high  priest  in  things  pertain- 
ing to  God,  to  make  reconciliation  for  the  sins 
of  the  people.' 

The  doctrine  of  redemption,  though  gene- 
rally neglected,  is  of  the  last  importance  to 
man.  This  is  the  ^  salvation  of  which  the  pro- 
phets inquired  and  searched  diligently,  who 
prophesied  of  the  grace  that  should  come 
unto  us :  searching  what,  or  what  manner  oi 
time  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  which  was  in  them, 
did  signify,  when  it  testified  beforehand  the 
sufferings  of  Christ  and  the  glory  that  should 
follow.'     This  is  the  mystery  into  which  angels 


THE    REFUGE.  163 

arc  represented  as  having  been  anxiously   de- 
sirous to  look  ;    but   which,    fully   to   compre- 
hend, they  must  descend  from  celestial  regions 
to  learn  on  earth,  by  the  church,  the  manifold 
wisdom    of   God.     And,  indeed,  who  so  fit  to 
announce  the  incarnation  of  the  Son  of  God,  as 
those    inquisitive    spirits    who    had    long   wit- 
nessed his  glory  in  heaven ;  who  owed  to  him 
the    confirmation    of  their    blessedness ;    who, 
from   the   beginning,    had   been    employed    as 
ministering    spirits    to  those  whom  he  left  his 
Father's  bosom  to   redeem ;   and  who   always 
felt    themselves  deeply   interested  in  the    pro- 
motion of  his  glory  and    in  the  happiness   of 
man. 

When   the    birth   of   Christ    was    first    pro- 
claimed,    there     were    shepherds,    it    is    said, 
abiding  in  the  fields,  keeping  watch  over  their 
flock  by  night.     And,  lo,  the  angel  of  the  Lord 
came  upon  them,    and  the    glory  of  the  Lord 
shone  round  about  them  :   and  they  were  sore 
afraid.     It  may  be  thought,  perhaps,   that  the 
shepherds  of  Juclea  need  an  apology  for  mani- 
festing any  trepidation  on  such  a  joyful  occa- 
p 


164  THE    REFUGE. 

sion :  but  who  could  have  seen  such  a  mes- 
senger and  beheld  such  splendour  without 
astonishment  and  without  dread !  The  bene- 
volent herald,  however,  neither  expressed  sur- 
prize nor  waited  for  excuse ;  but  kindly 
hastened  to  remove  the  tremour  that  his  pre- 
sence had  produced.  '  And  the  angel  said  unto 
them,  Fear  not :  for,  behold,  I  bring  you  good 
tidings  of  great  joy,  which  shall  be  to  all  peo- 
ple. For  unto  you  is  born  this  day,  in  the  city 
of  David,  a  Saviour,  which  is  Christ  the  Lord. 
And  suddenly  there  was  with  the  angel  a  mul- 
titude of  the  heavenly  host,  praising  God,  and 
saying.  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on 
earth  peace,  good  will  toward  men.' 

Who  can  for  a  moment  contemplate  this 
wonderful  intelligence,  and  not  exclaim  with 
the  devout  psalmist.  Lord,  what  is  man,  that 
thou  takest  knowledge  of  him !  or  the  son 
of  man,  that  thou  makest  account  of  him ! 
Herein  is  love,  says  an  apostle,  not  that  we 
loved  God,  but  that  he  loved  us,  and  sent  his 
Son  to  be  the  propitiation  for  our  sins.  '  He 
was  given  for  a  covenant  of  the  people,  for  a 


THE  REFUGE.  165 

light  to  the  Gentiles;  to  open  the  blind  eyes ; 
to  bring  out  the  prisoners  from  the  prison  ;  and 
them  that  sit  in  darkness  out  of  the  prison 
house. 

To  accomplish  the  work  of  man's  redemp- 
tion, the  Son  of  God  left  the  bosom  of  his 
Father,  and,  though  '  equal  with  God,  made 
himself  of  no  reputation,  and  took  upon  him 
the  form  of  a  servant,  and  was  made  in  the 
likeness  of  men :  and,  being  found  in  fashion 
as  a  man,  he  humbled  himself,  and  became 
obedient  unto  death,  even  the  death  of  the 
cross.'  Should  it  be  asked  why  the  Lord  Jesus 
condescended  to  take  our  nature  into  union 
with  his  divine  person,  the  answer  is — It  be- 
hoved him  to  be  made  like  unto  his  brethren  : 
or,  in  other  words,  it  was  to  qualify  himself 
for  the  arduous  work  he  had  graciously  under- 
taken to  perform — that  the  divine  law  might 
be  magnified  in  the  same  nature  by  wiiich  it 
was  first  dishonoured — 'that  he  might  by  the 
grace  of  God  taste  death  for  every  man.  For 
it  became  him,  for  whom  are  all  things,  and 
by    whom   are    all    things,    in    bringing     many 


166  THE   ilEi'UGE. 

sons  to  glory,  to  make  the  captain  of  their  sal- 
vation perfect  through  sufferings  For  both 
he  that  sanctifieth  and  they  who  are  sancti- 
fied are  all  of  one :  for  which  cause  he  is  not 
ashamed  to  call  them  brethren — Forasmuch 
then  as  the  children  are  partakers  of  flesh  and 
blood,  he  also  himself  likewise  took  part  of 
the  same ;  that  through  death  he  might  de- 
stroy him  that  had  the  power  of  death,  that 
is,  the  devil  ;  and  deliver  them  who  through 
fear  of  death  were  all  their  lifetime  subject  to 
bondage/ 

For  these  beneficent  purposes  the  Son  of 
God  became  incarnate.  '  He  was  made  of  a 
woman,  made  under  the  law  to  redeem  them 
that  were  under  the  law,  that  we  might  re- 
ceive the  adoption  of  sons.'  He  voluntarily 
became  subject  to  its  precepts  and  obnoxious 
to  its  penalty  ;  and,  as  the  head  of  his  body 
the  church,  was  obedient,  suffered,  and  died. 
He  is,  therefore,  emphatically  styled,  the  se- 
cond man — the  Lord  from  heaven.  The  first 
Adam  was  the  natural  and  federal  head  of  his 
posterity  :    h^  did  not    act  simply  as  an  indivi- 


THE    REFUGE,  1  G7 

dual,  but  as  the  representative  of  mankind  ; 
consequently  what  he  did  in  his  own  person, 
was,  in  one  view,  considered  as  done  by  them. 
*  By  one  man's  disobedience  many  were  made 
sinners — By  the  offence  of  one,  judgment 
came  upon  all  men  to  condemnation.'  Now 
had  our  first  father  retained  his  primitive  in- 
tegrity, his  offspring  would  undoubtedly  have 
participated  of  his  happiness :  but  as  he  apos- 
tatized from  God,  they  were  of  course  involved 
in  the  same  guilt,  the  effects  of  which  are  daily 
experienced  in  a  thousand  forms,  and  which, 
together  with  actual  transgression,  remain  on  all 
his  natural  descendants. 

Now,  by  the  assumption  of  human  nature, 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  became  our  near  kins- 
man, whose  right  it  was  to  redeem.  '  The 
word  was  made  flesh,  and  dwelt  among  us — . 
We  are  members  of  his  body,  of  his  flesh,  and 
of  his  bones — He  is  the  head  of  the  church  : 
and  he  is  the  saviour  of  the  body.'  But  prior 
to  this  astonishing  act  of  condescension,  the 
church  was  viewed  as  having  a  representative 
being  in  Christ.  As  mediator  and  head  of 
p  2 


168  THE   REFUGE. 

the  church,  he  was  set  up  from  everlasting — 
he  was  the  Father's  elect,  in  whom  his  soul 
delighted.  The  elect  are  said  to  be  '  given  to 
him  before  the  foundation  of  the  world  :  to  be 
chosen  in  him — to  be  blessed  with  all  spiritual 
blessings  in  heavenly  places  in  Christ :  and  to 
have  grace  given  them  in  him  before  the  world 
began.'  Christ  and  his  church  were  considered 
as  one  mystical  person. 

For  this  church  he  '  gave  himself ;  that  he 
might  sanctify  and  cleanse  it  with  the  wash- 
ing of  water  by  the  word,  and  present  it  to 
himself  a  glorious  church,  not  having  spot,  or 
wrinkle,  or  any  such  thing  ;  but  that  it  should 
be  holy  and  without  blemish.'  He  became 
'  the  repairer  of  breaches  ;'  or,  in  other  words, 
he  undertook  to  do  all  that  the  elect  ought  to 
have  done  in  their  own  persons,  and  to  suffer 
all  that  they  might  have  eternally  suffered  as 
the  just  demerit  of  their  sins.  To  speak  in  the 
astonishingly  emphatical  language  of  scripture 
— '  All  we  like  sheep  have  gone  astray ;  we 
have  turned  every  one  to  his  own  way  ;  and 
the   Lord   hath  laid   on  him  the  iniquity  of  us 


THE    REFUGE.  169 

all — He  came  to  give  his  life  a  ransom  for 
many — to  suffer  the  just  for  the  unjust — to 
bear  our  sins  in  his  own  body  on  the  tree — 
to  be  made  sin  and  a  curse  for  us — to  pour 
out  his  soul  unto  death — that  he  might  finish 
transgression  ;  make  an  end  of  sin  ,  and  bring 
in  an  everlasting  righteousness.'  Well,  there- 
fore, might  the  divine  Jesus  say,  when  in- 
stituting the  ordinance  in  which  his  followers 
were  to  commemorate  this  wonderful  trans- 
action till  his  second  coming — '  This  is  my 
blood  of  the  New  Testament,  which  is  shed 
for  many  for  the  remission  of  sins  :  this  do  in 
remembrance  of  me.' — To  which  an  apostle 
adds,  from  the  same  authority,  For  as  often  as 
ye  eat  this  bread,  and  drink  this  cup,  ye  do 
show  the  Lord's  death  till  he  come. 

Now,  what  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  did  and 
suffered,  was  not  on  his  own  account,  but  on 
account  of  his  body  the  church,  of  which  he 
was  constituted  the  representative.  For  if  the 
Saviour  of  mankind  be  viewed  simply  as  an 
individual ;  if  we  detach  from  his  character, 
as  mediator,  the  ideas  of  substitution  and  im- 


170  THE    REFUGE. 

putation — the  imputation  of  our  sin  to  him, 
and  of  his  righteousness  to  us  ;  the  unparal- 
leled sufferings  he  underwent,  had  they  been 
ten  thousand  times  greater  than  they  actually 
were,  can  avail  us  nothing — they  can  have  no 
reference  to  us  :  nor  is  it  possible,  without  in- 
cluding these  important  facts,  to  account  for 
the  astopishing  language  of  the  divine  Father 
when  he  said  concerning  him — Awake,  O 
sword,  against  my  shepherd,  against  the  Man 
that  is  my  Fellow  :  smite  the  Shepherd,  and 
the  sheep  shall  be  scattered.  Admit  but  the 
engagements  of  Christ  as  a  surety,  and  there 
is  no  obscurity.  *  He  became  answerable  for 
our  debt :  the  debt  was  exacted,  without  the 
least  abatement.  In  this  respect  God  spared 
not  his  own  Son.'  It  is  the  federal  relation 
which  Christ  sustains,  that  made  the  first 
Adam  a  striking  figure  of  him  that  was  to 
come  ;  and  is  indeed  the  true  reason  why  he 
is  expressly  denominated  the  second  Adam.  It 
is  by  the  offence  of  one,  that  judgment  came 
upon  all  men  to  condemnation ;  and  it  is  by 
the  obedience  of  one,  that  many  are  made 
righteous.     ^  Take    away  the    circumstance    of 


THE    REFUGE.  171 

substitution,  and  there  is  no  more  ground  for 
reliance  on  the  obedience  of  Christ,  than  for 
reliance  on  the  obedience  of  Gabriel.  We  are 
made  the  righteousness  of  God,  because  we 
are  in  him,  as  our  proxy  and  our  head.  Be- 
cause he  wrought  the  justifving  righteousness, 
not  only  in  our  nature,  but  in  our  name,  not 
only  as  our  benefactor,  but  as  our  representa- 
tive.' 

That  the  Redeemer  of  m.ankind  acted,  and 
was  treated  throughout  the  whole  of  his  humi- 
liation, as  the  surety  of  sinners,  will  appear 
abundantly  manifest,  if  it  be  remembered  that 
in  him,  personally  considered,  '  there  was  no 
sin,  neither  was  guile  found  in  his  mouth — 
He  was  holy,  harmless,  unde filed,  and  separate 
from  sinners — yet  it  pleased  the  Lord  to  bruise 
him — he  was  smitten  of  God,  and  afflicted. 
But  he  was  wounded  for  our  transgressions, 
he  was  bruised  for  our  iniquities :  the  chas- 
tisement of  our  peace  was  upon  him  ;  and  with 
his  stripes  we  are  healed — for  the  transgres- 
sion of  my  people  was  he  stricken.'  His  im- 
maculate  life   and  expiatory  death    ^  magnified 


172  THE    REFUGE. 

the  law  and  made  it  honourable.'  The  divine 
statute  received  at  his  hands,  as  the  surety  of 
the  church  in  our  nature,  ample  reparation : 
and  this  obedience  and  this  death,  are  the  only 
ground  of  an  awakened  sinner's  hope  of  mercy 
and  of  pardon. 

Now,  when  a  sinner  believes  the  record, 
^that  God  hath  given  to  us  eternal  life,  and 
that  this  life  is  in  his  Son :'  when  he  looks  to 
Calvary,  and  views  the  suffering  Saviour  as 
wounded  for  his  transgressions — as  bruised  for 
his  iniquities — ^the  law  which,  as  a  covenant 
of  works,  held  the  soul  in  bondage,  ceases  to 
harass  and  distress.  He  sees  all  its  claims  on 
him  as  a  debtor,  completely  cancelled  by  the 
payment  of  his  adorable  substitute  :  nothing 
left  for  him  'either  to  suffer  or  to  do,  in  order 
to  acquire  either  exemption  from  punishment, 
or  a  right  to  life.'  An  acquittal  from  guilt  r.nd 
condemnation  is  announced  to  the  conscience  ; 
and  he  perceives  with  astonishment  and  grati- 
tude, that  the  great  Lawgiver  of  the  universe, 
in  whose  sight  the  heavens  are  not  pure,  is 
nevertheless  a  just  God  and  a  Saviour! 


THE   REFUGE.  173 

Permit  me,  therefore,  to  repeat,  that  justi- 
fication is  not  to  be  obtained  by  the  works  of 
the  law — by  any  peformances  of  ours,  but  by  a 
righteousness  which,  in  opposition  to  the  righte- 
ousness of  men,  is  expressly  called  '  the 
righteousness  of  God — even  the  righteousness 
which  is  by  faith  of  Jesus  Christ  unto  all,  and 
upon  all  them  that  believe — whether  Jew  or 
Gentile,  bond  or  free — for  there  is  no  differ- 
ence.' Him  hath  the  divine  Father  '  set  forth 
to  be  a  propitiation  through  faith  in  his  blood, 
to  declare  his  righteousness  for  the  remission 
of  sins  that  are  past,  through  the  forbearance 
of  God ;  to  declare,  I  say,  at  this  time,  his 
righteousness  ;  that  he  might  be  just,  and  the 
justifier  of  him  which  belie veth  in  Jesus. 
Where  is  boasting  then  ?  It  is  excluded.  By 
what  law  ?  of  works  ?  Nay  :  but  by  the  law  of 
faith.  Therefore  we  conclude,  that  a  man  is 
justified  by  faith  without  the  deeds  of  the 
law.' 

By  this  work  of  our  heavenly  Substitute,  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  '  that  holy  law  which  we 
have  broken  is  highly  honoured  ;  and  that  aw- 


174  THE    REFUGE. 

ful  justice    which  we    have    offended  is    com- 
pletely  satisfied.       By    this    righteousness    the 
believer   is    acquitted   from    every    charge,    is 
perfectly  justified,  and  shall  be  eternally  saved. 
In  this   consummate    work,    Jehovah   declares 
himself  well  pleased,  and  in  it   all  the   glories 
of  the    Godhead    shine. — Yes,    the    obedience 
of  our   adorable    Sponsor  is  perfect  as   divine 
rectitude  could  require  ;  and  excellent  as  eter- 
nal  wisdom    itself  could    devise.     Admirable 
rightousncss  !  who,  that  is  taught  of  God,  would 
not,  with  Paul,  desire   to  be   found  in  it !   and 
who,  that  is  conscious  of  an  interest  in  it,  can 
cease  to  admire  and  adore  the  grace  that  provi- 
ded, and  the  Saviour  that  wrought  it  ?' — '  Sure- 
ly,' shall  one  say,  '  in  the  Lord  have   I  righte- 
ousness and  strength :   even  to   him   shall  men 
come  ;  and  all  that  are  incensed  against  him 
shall  be  ashamed.    In  the  Lord  shall  all  the  seed 
of  Israel  be  justified  and  shall  glory.' 

To  this  almighty  Saviour  our  original  and 
offending  parents  were  mercifvdly  directed  for 
relief.     To  set  before  them  the  gracious  design 


THE    REFUGE.  175 

and  end  of  his  coming  in  the  flesh,  proper 
means  were  instituted.  All  the  sacrifices  that 
were  offered  to  God  under  the  various  dispen- 
sations of  grace,  had  reference  to  him  as  their 
antitype.  But,  by  reason  of  the  imperfection 
which  was  natural  to  them  as  types,  they 
could  answer  no  higher  end  than  to  point  the 
sinner  to  this  bleeding  Lamb  figuratively  slain 
from  the  foundation  of  the  world.  The  Jewish 
rites  and  ceremonies,  though  of  divine  origin, 
were  only  shadows  of  good  things  to  come  ; 
and,  therefore,  could  never  remove  guilt  from 
the  conscience.  The  law  made  nothing  per- 
fect, but  the  bringing  in  of  a  better  hope  did 
— which  hope  is  Christ.  To  him,  the  bleed- 
ing sacrifice,  who,  through  the  eternal  Spirit, 
offered  himself  without  spot  to  God,  the  eve 
of  faith  ever  looks  for  pardon  and  foi  pcace^ 
Through  him  is  communicated  every  spiritual 
blessing.  In  him  are  hid  all  the  treasures  of 
wisdom,  and  of  knowledge.  He  is  the  foun- 
tain of  life  and  the  source  of  felicity.  He  is 
peace  to  the  troubled,  and  rest  to  the  weary. 
To  all  that  seek  him  sorrowing,  he  is  their  ex- 
ceeding joy  and  great  reward.     These  are  the 


176  THF    REFUGE. 

lambs  that  he  carries  in  the  arms  of  his  mer- 
cy— with  whom  he  delights  to  dwell,  and  to 
whom  he  graciously  saith  in  his  word,  '  son, 
daughter,  be  of  good  cheer,  thy  sins  are  for- 
given.' 

This  is  the  voice  that  sooths  the  pangs  of  grief, 
That  yields  the  burden'd  conscience  sweet  relief: 
O  could  my  friend  the  matchless  bliss  explore, 
Her  trembling  heart  would  disbelieve  no  more  : 
Her  doubting  breast  would  then  with  rapture  move, 
And  mourn  the  tenders  of  neglected  love. 

Look,  therefore,  to  this  almighty  Saviour- — 
this  friend  of  sinners — thou  prisoner  of  hope. 
He  is  not  only  our  advocate  with  the  Father, 
against  whom  we  have  sinned,  but  the  propitia- 
tion for  our  sins.  '  God  was  in  Christ  recon- 
ciling the  world  unto  himself,  not  imputing 
their  trespasses  unto  them — for  he  hath  made 
him  to  be  sin  for  us,  who  knew  no  sin,  that 
we  might  be  made  the  righteousness  of  God 
in  him — 3e  it  known  unto  you,  therefore, 
that  through  this  man  is  preached  unto  you 
the  forgiveness  of  sins  :  and  by  him  all  that 
believe  are  justified  from  all  things,  from 
which  they  could  not  be  justified  by  the  law 
of  Moses.'     Neither  the  number  nor  the  mag- 


THE    REFUGE.  177 

nitude  of  your  sins  forbids  your  approach. 
Were  none  but  the  comparatively  worthy  en- 
couraged to  come,  vain  man  might  think  he 
had  whereof  to  boast.  But  in  the  affair  of 
salvation,  the  Lord  hath  purposed  to  stain  the 
pride  of  human  glory,  and  to  bring  into  con- 
tempt those  things  that  are  generally  consider- 
ed as  establishing  a  kind  of  title  to  his  fa^ 
vour  and  forgiveness.  For  were  any  other 
plea  than  sovereign  grace  through  the  blood 
of  Christ  admitted  in  the  court  of  heaven,  the 
self  righteous  moralist  might  glory  in  his  do- 
ings ;  the  wise  man  in  his  wisdom  ;  and  the 
mighty  in  his  strength.  But  as  nothing  done 
by  man  can  in  the  least  conduce  to  his  justifi- 
cation before  God,  we  must  conclude  with  the 
apostle,  and  rejoice  in  the  conclusion,  '  that  sal- 
vation is  of  grace — not  by  works,  lest  any  man 
should  boast.'  The  inspired  writer  felt  for  the 
honour  of  his  divine  Master,  as  well  as  for  the 
souls  of  men :  and  while  he  laboured  to  pre- 
serve the  gospel  in  its  purity,  he  showed  the 
arrogant  their  danger,  and  exalted  the  riches 
of  grace  by  opening  a  door  of  hope  for  the 
chief  of  sinners. 


^78  THE    REFUGE. 

When  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  as  the  surety 
of  the  church,  had  finished  the  work  which 
the  Father  gave  him  to  do  ;  he  ascended  up  on 
high  as  a  triumphant  conqueror.  '  He  led  cap- 
tivity  captive  :  he  spoiled  principalities  and 
powers,  and  made  a  show  of  them  openly,  tri- 
umphing over  them  on  the  cross:'  and  when 
he  entered  the  mansions  of  blessedness  as  a 
publick  person — as  our  forerunner — it  was  pro- 
claimed throughout  the  heavenly  regions — '  lift 
up  your  heads,  O  ye  gates ;  and  be  ye  lift 
up,  ye  everlasting  doors  ;  and  the  King  of  glory 
shall  come  in.  Who  is  this  King  of  glory  ? 
The  Lord,  strong  and  mighty:  the  Lord,  mighty 
in  battle.' 

Such  was  the  reception  with  which  the 
despised  Galilean  met  in  the  realms  of  glory  ! 
This  was  a  part  of  the  joy  that  was  set  before 
him,  for  which  he  endured  the  cross,  despi- 
sing the  shame,  and  is  now  set  down  on  the 
right  hand  of  the  Majesty  on  high.  For  this 
exaltation  he  ardently  prayed  during  his  abase- 
ment on  earth.  '  These  words  spake  Jesus, 
and  lifted  up    his    eyes   to  heaven,    and  said. 


THE    REFUGE,  1T9 

Father,  the  hour  is  come :  glorify  thy  Son, 
that  thy  Son  also  may  glorify  thee — I  have  glo- 
rified thee  on  earth  ;  I  have  finished  the  work 
which  thou  gavest  me  to  do.  And  now,  O  Fa- 
ther, glorify  thou  me  with  thine  own  self  with 
the  glory  which  I  had  with  thee  before  the 
world  was.'  He  prayed  to  him  that  was  able 
to  save  him  from  death,  and  was  heard  in  that 
he  feared.  '  Wherefore  God  hath  highly  ex- 
alted him,  and  given  him  a  name  which  is 
above  every  name :  that  at  the  name  of  Jesus 
every  knee  should  bow,  of  things  in  heaven, 
and  things  on  earth,  and  things  under  the  earth ; 
and  that  every  tongue  should  confess  that 
Jesus  Christ  is  Lord,  to  the  glory  of  God  the 
Father.' 

This  Jesus,  remember,  is  possessed  of  sove- 
reign dominion.  All  power  in  heaven  and  in 
earth  is  given  unto  him.  He  is  exalted  to  be 
a  Prince  and  a  Saviour,  to  give  repentance  to 
Israel  and  forgiveness  of  sins.  He  has  com- 
manded, '  that  repentance  and  remission  of  sins 
should  be  preached  in  his  name  among  all  na- 
0.2 


180  THE    REIUGE. 

tions  ;'  and  to  this  command  annexed,  for  the 
encouragement  of  his  faithful  ministers,  a  pro- 
mise  that   he   will  be  with    them   alway,  even 
unto  the  end  of  the  world.      Now,  to    this  al- 
mighty Saviour,  this  Prince  of  peace,  who  sits 
as  a  priest  upon  his  throne,  you  are  encouraged 
to  come.   In  his  name  you  may  confidently  trust ; 
for,  '  by  him,  all  that  believe  are  justified  from 
all  things,  from  which  they  could  not  be  jus- 
tified by  the  law  of  Moses.'     If,  then,  all  power 
in  heaven  and  in  earth  be  in  his  hands,  and  to 
be  used  as  he  pleases — if  his  blood,  as  the  Re- 
deemer of  mankind,  cleanse   from  all  sin,  and 
his    righteousness,  as    a    substitute,  justify  the 
ungodly — if  he  be  the  resurrection,  and  the  life, 
and  it  be  true,  that  whosoever  liveth  and  believ- 
eth  in  him  shall  never  die — if  he  have  invited 
sinners  to  come  to  him  for  complete  salvation, 
and  have  said  without  limitation  and  without 
exception,  '  him  that  cometh,  I  will  in  no  wise 
cast  out' — what  should  hinder  your  approach  ? 
It  is  still,  and  ever  will  be  the  language  of  his 
heart,  while  there   is  a  redeemed  sinner  upon 
earth — '  Father,    I   will  that  they  also,  whom 


THE    REFUGE.  181 

thou  hast  given  me,  be  with  nie  where  I  am  ; 
that  they  may  behold  my  glory,  which  thou  hast 
given  me — And  now  I  am  no  more  in  the  world, 
but  these  are  in  the  world — Holy  Father,  keep 
through  thine  own  name  those  whom  thou 
hast  given  me,  that  they  may  be  one,  as  we 
are.' 

From  considerations  so  animating,  the  dejec- 
ted  christian  perceives  there  is  forgiveness  with 
God,  that  he  may  be  feared.  Neither  the  mul- 
titude nor  the  magnitude  of  his  sins  gives  rea- 
son for  despair.  The  price  of  his  release  from 
condemnation  is  already  paid  by  the  blood  of 
Immanuel.  Not  a  sin  remains  uncancelled — 
unforgiven — and  he  may  rest  assured  of  a  full, 
and  everlasting  discharge  from  the  accusations 
of  a  guilty  conscience,  and  from  the  righteous 
claims  of  a  violated  law.  The  work  of  Jesus  as 
a  surety  is  complete — is  allsufRcient — so  that 
the  believer  may  say,  in  reference  to  interest  in 
the  perfection  of  his  work,  as  the  apostle  did 
concerning  the  supply  of  his  own  necessities, 
'  I    have    all,  and    abound' — for   what  can   he 


182  THE    REFUGE. 

want  to  whom  Christ  is  made  of  God  wisdom, 
and  righteousness,  and  sanctification,  and  re- 
demption ? 

I  am  yours,  &c. 


THE    REFUGE.  183 


LETTER  VI. 

»-—  Believe  and  live — — — 

Too  many,  shocked  at  what  should  chann  them  mcst. 
Despise  the  plain  direction  and  are  lost  : 
Heaven  en  such  terms]  they  cry  with  proud  disdain^ 
rncredible,  impossible,  and  vain. 

COWPER. 


A  HE  fears  suggested  in  your  last,  in  refer- 
ence to  pardon,  evince  a  suspicion  that  the  love 
of  God  cannot  be  extended  to  any  objects  except 
those  who  are,  in  some  way  or  other,  more 
deserving  than  yourself.  You  are  ready  to  say, 
'  Had  I  a  heart  to  love  God  like  David,  had  I 
talents  to  glorify  God  as  Paul ;  were  I  like 
Nathanael,  an  Israelite  without  guile ;  then  might 
I  hope,  with  them,  to  have  my  imperfections 
pardoned,  my  person  accepted,  and  my  services 
rewarded.  But  this  heart,  with  which  I  should 
love  God,  is  carnal  and  not  spiritual ;  my  talents 
and  abilities  with  which  he  should  be  glorified. 


184  THE    REFUGE. 

are  few,  if  any.  My  sincerity,  which  should  be 
conspicuous  in  every  duty,  is  strongly  tinctured 
with  hypocrisy  and  selfishness.  With  what  con* 
fidence  then  can  .iJiich  a  wretch  draw  near  to 
Christ,  or  ever  expecc  a  welcome  reception  r' 

But  this  reasoning  is  fallacious :  it  proceeds, 
not  on  the  ground  of  justification  being  an 
act  of  grace  to  the  absolutely  unworthy  ;  but  a 
reward  conferred  in  consequence  of  pious  dis- 
positions or  devotional  duties,  than  which  nothing 
can  be  more  erroneous  nor  more  dangerous. 
The  supposition  is  repugnant  to  the  very  genius 
of  the  gospel,  which  signifies  glad  tidings — 
good  nev/s.  But  would  either  of  the  epithets 
accord  with  the  wonderful  intelligence,  if,  in 
order  to  share  the  invaluable  blessings  it  reveals, 
the  man  to  whom  this  gospel  comes  must 
previously  possess  inherent  righteousness,  or 
evince  by  exteriour  conduct  that  he  really 
deserves  it  ?  '  Can  he  be  clean  before  God, 
that  is  born  of  a  woman  ? — Behold,  he  putteth 
no  trust  in  his  saints ;  yea,  the  heavens  are 
not  clean  in  his  sight.  How  much  more 
abominable   and  filthy  is  man,    which   drinketh 


THE  REFUGE.  185 

iniquity  like  water? — Who  can  bring  a  clean 
thing  out  of  an  unclean?  not  one.'  Circum- 
stanced as  we  now  are,  the  tidings,  so  far 
from  being  good,  would  be  quite  the  reverse. 
I  say  quite  the  reverse  ;  because,  to  be  inte- 
rested in  the  good  they  contain,  I  must  be  the 
subject  of  qualifications  which  I  never  had, 
which  I  am  unable  to  acquire,  and  which  no 
human  eiforts  can  produce.  A  consideration^ 
therefore,  of  my  own  deficiency,  respecting 
these  prerequisites,  and  of  my  utter  ihabilitv^ 
to  remedy  the  defect,  would  have  a  natural 
tendency,  not  to  excite  hope,  but  to  generate 
despair. 

What  qualifications  did  Saul  of  Tarsus  pos- 
sess when  the  glory  of  Christ  shone  into  his 
heart  on  the  road  to  Damascus  ?  He  says  him- 
self, in  reference  to  this  astonishing  transaction, 
I  was  before  a  blasphemer,  and  a  persecutor, 
and  injurious :  but  I  obtained  mercy.  These, 
says  a  celebrated  foreigner,  are  the  prepara- 
tory deserts  the  apostle  produces  ;  for  no- 
thing intervenes  between  his  having  been  all 
this,    and  his  obtaining  mercy,  as  the  cause,  or 


186  THE  REFUGE* 

as  fitting  him  for  it :  and  had  he  been  guilty 
of  adultery,  of  drunkenness,  and  of  perjury, 
he  could,  and  no  doubt  would  have  said,  I 
Paul,  the  adulterer — the  drunkard — the  perjured 
wretch— obtained  mercy. 

What  moral  qualifications  did  the  Saviour 
of  sinners  find  in  the  unchaste  Sam.aritan  with 
whom  he  graciously  entered  into  familiar  con- 
versation at  Jacob's  well  ;  to  whom  he  revealed 
himself  as  the  Messias,  who  asked,  and  re- 
ceived of  him  that  living  water  which  she 
found  to  be  as  a  well  springing  up  into  ever- 
lasting life  ? 

What  evidence,  either  of  compassion  or  com- 
punction, did  the  jailor  at  Philippi  manifest  to 
Paul  and  Silas,  previous  to  the  earthquake  that 
shook  both  his  prison  and  his  conscience  ;  and 
to  whom,  in  the  distraction  of  inquiry,  they  said, 
believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt 
be  saved  ? 

What  previous  qualifications  had  those  Ephe- 
ftian   converts  who   were  quickened  when  dead 


THE    REFUGE.  187 

in  trespasses  and  sins  ? — or  those  highly  favoured 
Romans,  who,  when  enemies,  were  reconciled 
to  God  by  the  death  of  his  Son  ?  What  moral 
worth  was  beheld  in  Zaccheus — in  Matthew — 
But  why  do  I  select  Saul  of  Tarsus,  Zaccheus, 
or  Matthew,  the  woman  of  Samaria,  the  jailor 
at  Philippi,  Ephesian  or  Roman  converts,  as 
instances  of  unparalleled  unworthiness  ?  All  the 
world  is  become  guilty  before  God — there  is 
none  righteous — there  is  none  that  doeth  good, 
no  not  one. 

Is  it  not  a  lamentable  fact  evinced  by  the 
testimony  of  scripture,  and  the  sad  experience 
of  the  saints,  '  that  in  our  flesh  dwelleth  no 
good  thing  ? — That  when  we  would  do  good, 
evil  is  present  with  us,  so  that  we  cannot  do 
the  things  that  we  w^ould  ? — We  are  carnal, 
sold  under  sin — we  are  not  sufficient  to  do 
any  thing  as  of  ourselves,  but  are  absolutely 
without  strength.'  So  far  are  we  from  having 
naturally  any  real  love  to  God,  that  the  '  carnal 
mind  is  enmity  against  him  :'  we  do  not  love  to 
retain  him  in  our  thonghts. 

R 


188  THE    REFUGE. 

Now  this  is  not  the  case  with  a  part  of  man- 
kind only  :  nor  are  these  things  said  of  a  few 
individuals  notorious  for  acts  of  atrocity,  but 
of  every  man  without  exception.  The  defec- 
tipn  is  universal.  The  saints  themselves  are 
involved  in  the  guilt,  and  are  by  nature  chil- 
dren of  wrath,  even  as  others.  '  The  Lord 
looked  down  from  heaven  upon  the  children 
of  men,  to  see  if  there  were  any  that  did  un- 
derstand, and  seek  God  :  and  what  was  the 
result  of  this  survey  ?  they  are,  it  is  said,  all  gone 
aside  ;  they  are  altogether  become  filthy :  there 
is  none  that  doeth  good,  no,  not  one — every 
mouth,  therefore,  must  be  stopped — for  by  the 
deeds  of  the  law  there  shall  no  flesh  be  justified 
in  his  sight.' 

The  sovereignty  of  divine  love,  and  the 
riches  of  divine  grace,  are  eminently  conspi- 
cuous, not  in  Christ's  dying  for  persons  com- 
paratively righteous,  but  in  this — 'that  when 
we  were  yet  without  strength,  Christ  died  for 
the  ungodly.  For  scarcely  for  a  righteous 
man  will  one  die  ;  yet  peradventure  for  a  good 
man  some  would  even  dare  to  die.     But  God 


THE    REFUGE,  18b^ 

commendeth  his  love  toward  us,  in  that,  while 
we  were  yet  sinners,  Christ  died  for  us.  Much 
more,  then,  being  justified  by  his  blood,  we 
shall  be  saved  from  wrath  through  him.  For 
if,  when  we  were  enemies,  we  were  reconciled 
to  God  by  the  death  of  his  Son,  much  more, 
being  reconciled,  we  shall  be  saved  by  his 
life.' 

Besides,  the  very  term  Saviour,  as  it  respects 
man,  implies  his  lost  condition.  For  if,  by  any 
means  of  his  own  devising  he  could  have  deliv- 
ered his  soul,  or  have  given  to  God  a  ransom 
for  it,  the  angelick  heralds  would  not  have  been 
commissioned  to  proclaim,  glory  to  God  in 
the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  good  will  to- 
ward men.  The  song  of  praise  is  an  implicit 
declaration  that  salvation  is  of  the  Lord  ;  that 
the  glory  of  its  contrivance,  as  well  as  of  its 
completion,  w^holly  belongs  to  him  ;  and  that 
the  promulgation  of  this  salvation  is  the  only 
way  in  which  the  peace  with  God  is  made  known 
to  man  ;  by  which  it  is  enjoyed  in  the  consci- 
ence on  earth,  or  experienced  in  all  its  plenitude 
in  heaven. 


190  THE  REFUGE. 

Permit  me,  therefore,  to  repeat,  that  divine 
love,  as  exercised  toward  sinners,  did  not  ori- 
ginate in  any  real  or  supposed  comparative 
excellence  in  any  of  its  objects,  but  in  the 
good  pleasure  and  sovereignty  of  God.  Men 
were  viewed  as  depraved  and  guilty ;  as  alto- 
gether unworthy  ;  and  so  circumstanced  that 
all,  if  such  had  been  the  divine  will,  might 
have  been  justly  left  to  perish  in  their  sins. 
Grace,  therefore,  as  a  sovereign,  had  an  un- 
doubted right  to  communicate  its  blessings  to 
this  notorious  transgressor  or  to  that:  to  the 
completely  vicious,  or  the  comparatively  vir- 
tuous :  to  the  infant  of  a  day,  or  to  the  hoary 
head  bending  to  the  grave.  It  looks  for  no 
moral  qualifications  on  which  to  bestow  its  fa- 
vours ;  but  confers  them  on  the  guilty,  the 
wretched,  and  the  damnable.  It  delights  in 
extending  relief  to  the  miserable — in  supply- 
ing the  wants  of  the  unworthy.  It  triumphs  in 
delivering  its  favourites  from  the  depths  of 
calamity  ;  knowing  that  where  much  is  for- 
given, much  will  also  be  gratefully  returned. 
It  seems,  indeed,  from  many  examples  left  on 
record  in  the  Bible,  that  divine  goodness  pur- 


THE  REFUGE.  191 

posely  sought  for  objects  the  most  undeserving 
on  which  to  exercise  beneficence  :  that  in  ages 
to  come,  God  might  shew  the  exceeding  riches 
of  his  grace  in  his  kindness  towards  us  through 
Jesus  Christ ;  and  that,  for  the  encouragement 
of  the  indigent  supplicant  at  his  throne,  it 
might  appear,  in  every  generation,  that  the 
unsearchable  riches  of  his  grace  are  treasures 
which  no  poverty  can  exhaust,  and  which  di- 
vine fidelity  itself  stands  pledged  never  to  with- 
hold. 

*  Such  was  the  beneficent  design  of  God,  and 
such  is  the  salutary  genius  of  the  gospel. — 
Delightful,  ravishing  truth  !  enough,  one  would 
think,  to  make  the  brow  of  melancholy  wear 
a  smile.  The  blessings  of  grace  were  never 
designed  to  distinguish  the  worthy,  or  to  re- 
ward merit ;  but  to  relieve  the  wretched,  and 
save  the  desperate.  These  are  the  patentees 
in  the  heavenly  grant.  Yea,  they  have  an  ex- 
clusive right.  For,  as  to  all  those  who  imagine 
themselves  to  be  the  better  sort  of  people  ; 
who  depend  on  their  own  duties ;  and  plead  their 
own  worthiness  j  who  are  not  willing  to  stand 
R  2 


192  THE  REFUGE. 

on  a  level  with  publicans  and  harlots  ;  Christ 
has  nothing  to  do  with  them,  nor  the  gospel 
any  thing  to  say  to  them.  As  they  are  too 
proud  to  live  upon  alms,  or  to  be  entirely  be- 
holden to  sovereign  grace  for  all  their  salvation ; 
so  they  must  not  take  it  amiss,  if  they  have  not 
the  least  assistance  from  that  quarter.  They 
appeal  to  the  law,  and  by  it  they  must  stand  or 
fall.' 

The  divine  conduct,  in  saving  sinners,  has 
ever  been  an  occasion  of  stumbling  to  the  self- 
righteous  moralist.  This  was  strikingly  exem- 
plified during  the  life  and  ministry  of  our 
blessed  Lord.  His  compassionate  regard  to 
those  whom  the  scribes  and  pharisees  consi- 
dered as  the  refuse  of  the  people,  was  always 
objected  to  his  mission  and  his  character.  He 
was  contemptuously  called,  '  a  friend  of  publi- 
cans and  sinners.'  It  was  said,  in  a  way  of 
reproach,  ^  he  receiveth  sinners  and  eateth  with 
them — He  is  gone  to  be  a  guest  with  a  man 
that  is  a  sinner  :'  and  when  the  infamous  pros- 
titute came  to  Jesus  as  he  sat  at  meat  in  the 
Pharisee's  house,  and  began  to  wash  his  feet 


THE  REFUGE.  193 

with  tears,  and  to  wipe  them  wiA  the  hairs  of 
her  head,  he  that  invited  him  spake  within  him- 
self, saying,  this  man,  if  he  were  a  prophet, 
would  have  known  who  and  what  manner  of 
woman  this  is  that  toucheth  him ;  for  she 
is  a  sinner — How  is  it,  was  the  inquiry,  that 
your  master  eateth  and  drinketh  with  pub- 
licans and  sinners? 

The  deportment  of  the  pharisees  w^as  very 
different  from  the  conduct  of  those  whom  they 
denominated  sinners :  for  these,  it  is  pretty 
evident,  were  notoriously  abandoned,  even  to 
a  proverb.  The  pharisees  imagined  that  the 
moral  qualifications  vv^hich  they  possessed 
ought,  when  contrasted  v/ith  the  character  of 
those  profligates  with  whom  Jesus  was  fami- 
liar, to  have  secured  them  peculiar  marks  of 
favour  and  attachment.  They  argued,  as  all  men 
naturally  do,  on  a  supposition  that  some  sort 
of  worthiness  in  the  sinner  must  be  the  ground 
of  divine  approbation,  and  the  only  means  by 
which  that  approbation  can  consistently  be 
enjoyed.  They  were,  in  scripture  language, 
whole.     They  did  not  consider  themselves  as 


194  THE    REFUGE. 

diseased,    and,  of  course,    felt   no  need  of  a 
physician. 

But  so  far  was  our  blessed  Lord  from  con- 
iiidering  the  objections  brought  against  the 
publicans  and  sinners  a  just  reason  for  treat- 
ing them  with  abhorrence  or  neglect,  that  he 
made  the  very  objection  itself  an  argument  for 
paying  them  particular  attention.  He  tacitly 
admitted  the  truth  of  what  the  pharisees  al- 
leged, and  vindicated  the  propriety  of  his 
conduct  on  their  own  principles.  You  pro- 
nounce, as  if  he  had  said,  and  it  is  granted, 
that  these  men  are  extremely  wicked  ;  that 
they  are  lost,  as  to  themselves,  and  abandoned 
by  reputable  society ;  and  this  charge  they  do 
not  pretend  to  deny,  nor  j^et  attempt  to  pal- 
liate their  crimes  ;  surely,  therefore,  if  any  per- 
sons upon  earth  be  completely  wretched,  these 
are  the  men.  Your  own  assertions  compel  you 
to  admit  that  they  stand  in  need  of  commisse- 
ration  and  relief;  and  that,  if  divine  mercy  be 
not  gratuitously  conferred,  they  must  inevita- 
bly perish.  In  rescuing  them  from  perditior , 
therefore,  I  am  only  doing  what  you,  in  other 


THE  REFUGE.  19o 

,  would  both  commend  and  Imitate.  ^  For 
what  man  among  you,  having  an  hundred 
sheep,  if  he  lose  one  of  them,  doth  not  leave  the 
ninety  and  nine  in  the  wilderness,  and  go  after 
that  which  was  lost,  until  he  find  it  ?  Either, 
what  woman  having  ten  pieces  of  silver,  if 
she  lose  one  piece,  doth  not  light  a  candle, 
and  sweep  the  house,  and  seek  diligently  till 
she  find  it  ?'  Now,  I  have  publickly  and 
repeatedly  declared  that  I  am  come  to  seek 
and  to  save  that  whidi  was  lost.  This  is  my 
errand  ;  and  therefore  you  must  allow  that,  if 
there  be  any  consistency  between  my  preten- 
sions and  my  conduct,  these  publicans  and  sin- 
ners are  the  very  persons  v/hom  I  ought  to 
save  ;  and  that,  instead  of  attempting  to  avoid 
intercourse  with  them,  it  is  rather  my  duty  to 
promote  it :  for  the  whole  need  not  a  physician, 
but  they  that  are  sick — I  came  not  to  call  the 
righteous,  but  sinners  to  repentance  :  and  where 
should  the  physician  be  found  but  among  them 
that  are  diseased  ? — or  with  whom  should  the 
Saviour  associate,  but  v/ith  those  whom  he  came 
purposely  to  save  ? 


^96  THE  REFUGE. 

*  Th'  atonement  a  Redeemer's  love  has  wrought 
Is  not  for  you — the  righteous  need  it  not. 
Seest  thou  yon  harlot  wooing  all  she  meets, 
The  worn  out  nuisance  of  the  publick  streets, 
Herself  from  morn  to  night,  from  night  to  morn, 
Her  own  abhorrence,  and  as  much  your  scorn  ? 
The  gracious  show'r,  unlimited  and  free, 
Shall  fall  on  her — when  heaven  denies  it  thee. 
Of  all  that  wisdom  dictates,  this  the  drift, 
That  man  is  de^d  in  sin — and  life  a  gift.' 

This  consolatory  truth  is  strikingly  exempli- 
fied in  the  sequel  of  the  following  parable. 
*  A  certain  man  made  a  great  supper,  and 
bade  many;  and  sent  his  servant  at  supper 
time  to  say  to  them  that  were  bidden,  come  ; 
for  all  things  are  now  ready.  And  they  all 
with  one  consent  began  to  make  excuse.  The 
first  said  unto  him,  I  have  bought  a  piece  of 
ground,  and  I  must  needs  go  and  see  it:  I  pray 
thee  have  me  excused.  And  another  said,  I 
have  bought  five  yoke  of  oxen,  and  I  go  to 
prove  them :  I  pray  thee  have  me  excused. 
And  another  said,  I  have  married  a  wife,  and 
therefore  I  cannot  come.  Then  the  master  of 
the  house  being  angry,  said  to  his  servant,  go 
out  quickly  into  the  streets  and  lanes  of  the 
city — into  the  highways  and  hedges,  and  bring 


THE    REFUGE.  197 

in  hither  the  poor,  and  the  maimed,  and  the 
halt,  and  the  blind,  that  my  house  may  be 
filled.  For  I  say  unto  you,  that  none  of  those 
men  which  were  bidden  shall  taste  of  my 
supper/ 

That  the  conclusion  of  this  parable  prima- 
rily refers  to  the  rejection  of  the  Jewish  na- 
tion for  their  unbelief,  and  to  the  subsequent 
promulgation  of  the  gospel  to  the  gentiles, 
for  whom  that  people  entertained  the  most 
sovereign  contempt,  I  have  not  the  smallest 
doubt.  But  that  the  pharisees  and  doctors  of 
the  law,  to  whom  it  was  delivered,  understood 
it  in  this  sense  is  not  probable.  Their  notions 
of  the  expected  Messiah  and  his  kingdom  were 
so  secularized,  that  they  lost  sight  of  the  spi- 
ritual blessings  to  be  derived  either  to  them- 
selves or  to  others  from  his  appearance  in  the 
world  :  and  were,  besides,  so  circumscribed, 
owing  perhaps  to  the  exclusive  privileges  by 
which  they  had  been  so  long  distinguished 
from  other  nations,  as  to  make  it  questionable 
whether  they  had,  notwithstanding  the  perspi- 
cuity  of  ancient   prophecies    on   this    subject, 


198  THE  REFUGE. 

any  idea  that  these  nations  were  to  participate 
the  same  goodness  in  any  other  way  than  by 
becoming  proselytes  to  Judaism.  It  is,  there- 
fore, perfectly  natural  to  suppose  that,  while 
our  Lord  predicted  the  awful  consequences 
which  were  to  follow  his  being  rejected  by 
that  ungrateful  nation,  he  intended  the  para» 
ble  should,  at  the  same  time,  be  strikingly  ap- 
plicable to  these  whited  sepulchres  who  had, 
by  their  doctrine  and  contemptuous  treatment 
of  himself,  so  largely  contributed  to  accelerate 
its  ruin. 

By  the  servant  being  sent  into  the  streets 
and  lanes,  the  highways  and  hedges,  these 
pharisees  and  doctors  of  the  law  must  have 
perceived  that  the  master  of  the  feast  was  de- 
termined to  furnish  his  table  with  guests  whom 
they  utterly  abhorred  :  that  by  so  doing  he  was, 
in  fact,  contrasting  the  vice  attached  to  these 
despicable  wretches  with  their  virtue,  and 
practically  declaring  that  neither  the  abject 
situations,  nor  the  detestable  atrocities  of  these 
outcasts  of  society,  were  any  bar  to  entertain- 
ment at  his  table  ;  or  to  speak  without  a  figure^ 


m^: 


THE  REFUGE.  199 

and  in  reference  to  Christ  and  his  kingdom; 
that  their  multiplied  transgressions  would  not 
hinder  the  bestowment  of  his  mercy,  nor  were 
they  so  incompatible  w^th  the  nature  of  his 
mission,  nor  so  likely  to  operate  to  his  prejudice, 
as  the  abominaWe  pride  and  selfrighteousness 
which  the  scribes  and  pharisees  constantly 
manifested  by  their  conduct. 

Now,  it  must  have  been  extremely  mortify- 
ing to  these  restless  persecutors  of  Christ,  to 
find  that  their  vacant  seats  were  to  be  occu- 
pied by  the  refuse  of  mankind — by  harlots, 
publicans,  and  profligates.  They  were  too 
proud  and  too  carnal  to  view  themselves  as 
sinners  standing  in  need  of  such  a  saviour  as 
Christ  professedly  was.  They  expected  a  Mes- 
siah that  would  set  up  a  temporal  kingdom  ; 
that  w^ould  emancipate  them  from  the  bond- 
age of  Rome,  and  exalt  the  nation  to  inde- 
pendence,  opulence,  and  splendour.  But  when 
they  found  that  our  Lord's  kingdom  was  not 
of  this  world,  they  opposed  all  his  claims  as 
e  true  Messiah;  stigmatized  his  character 
with  the  most  reproachful  epithets  ;  and  perse- 


200  THE    REFUGE. 

cuted  him  with  unrelenting  malice.  '  They 
saw  that  his  humility  favoured  not  their  pride, 
and  that  his  meekness  was  not  likely  to  raise 
him  from  the  footstool  of  the  Roman  empire 
to  the  throne  of  the  world.' 

But  what  gave,  perhaps,  the  greatest  offence, 
and  for  which  the  Saviour  of  men  was  most 
despised  and  calumniated,  was  his  unwearied 
attention  and  kindness  to  those  whom  the  pha- 
risees  emphatically  denominated  sinners.  These 
blind  guides,  leaders  of  the  blind,  were  too 
haughty  to  acknowledge  his  divine  mission ;  it 
did  not  quadrate  with  their  erroneous  sentiments 
and  ambitious  views.  They  were  punctual  in 
the  discharge  of  various  religious  and  moral 
duties  that  were  to  be  seen  of  men — in  paying- 
tithe  of  mint  and  anise  and  cummin,  but  omit- 
ted the  weightier  matters  of  the  law,  such  as 
judgment,  mercy,  and  faith.  It  was,  therefore, 
imagined  that  they  were  entitled  to  distin- 
guishing marks  of  respectful  attachment — 
that,  if  Jesus  were  really  the  Messiah,  he  would 
certainly  have  testified  in  the  most  publick 
manner  his  approbation  of  their  sanctimonious 


1^  thi 


THE  REFUGE,  201 

pearance,  and  have  recommended  them  as 
perfect  models  of  piety  and  virtue.  They  were 
ready  to  obtrude  on  his  silence  the  query  of 
their  ungrateful  progenitors.  ^  What  profit  is 
it  that  we  have  kept  his  ordinances  ? — Where- 
fore have  we  fasted  and  thou  takest  no  know- 
ledge ?'  But  when  they  found  that  neither 
their  religious  nor  their  political  notions  met 
with  his  concurrence,  they  were  exceedingly 
enraged  ;  they  aspersed  the  Holy  One  of  Israel, 
and  called  the  Messenger  of  peace,  a  deceiver— - 
a  fomenter  of  sedition — a  blasphemer  of  his  Cx6d 
— and  an  enemy  to  Csesar. 

These,  and  similar  remarks  will,  I  trust, 
demonstrate  that  the  love  of  God  to  man  is 
absolutely  sovereign  and  free ;  and  that  no 
worthiness  is  sought  for  in  the  object  on  whom 
its  blessings  are  conferred.  '  God  hath  chosen 
the  foolish  things  of  the  world  to  confound 
the  wise  ;  and  the  weak  things  of  the  world  to 
confound  the  things  which  are  mighty ;  and 
base  things  of  the  world,  and  things  that  are 
despised,  hath  God  chosen,  yea,  and  things 
which  are  not,  to  bring  to  nought  things  that 


202  THE  REFUGE. 

are  :  that  no  flesh  should  glory  in  his  presence.^ 
Were  the  glorious  gospel  revealed  only,  or  prin- 
cipally, to  the  wise  and  the  prudent,  it  would, 
as  the  excellent  Charnock  expresses  it,  be 
viewed  as  a  discovery  made  to  reason  rather 
than  to  faith :  and  v/ere  divine  grace  commu- 
nicated to  the  comparatively  pure,  it  would 
bQ  considered  as  a  debt  wdiich  the  Almighty 
lay  under  some  sort  of  obligation  to  discharge  : 
but  when  both  are  bestowed  on  objects  that 
are  uncommonly  depraved — that  have  nothing 
to  plead  in  extenuation  of  their  guilt — there 
is  no  room  for  glorying,  but  he  that  glorieth 
must  glory  in  the  Lord. 

JLetit,  however,  be  remembered,  that  the  love 
of  God,  freely  exercised  towards  his  elect,  is 
never  to  be  viewed  as  detached  from  their 
head  and  surety,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  In 
him  they  were  chosen  ;  in  his  comeliness  they 
are  comely  ;  in  his  righteousness  they  are 
righteous  ;  in  him  shall  they  be  blessed  ;  and 
in  him  shall  they  glory.  In  them  personally 
considered  dwelleth  no  good  thing.  But  they 
w^ere    chosen   in    him   to    grace    and    holincbb 


THE    REFUGE.  203 

here,  and  to  glory  hereafter.  He,  as  the  head, 
they  as  the  members  :  they  are  one  with  him, 
and  where  he  is,  there  shall  they  be  also.  As 
mediator  of  the  covenant,  he  is  the  Father's 
elect,  in  whom  he  is  well  pleased;  and  the 
love  of  the  divine  Father  to  sinners,  is  abun- 
dantly manifest  in  his  choosing  them  in  him  as 
their  head — in  making  a  covenant  with  him 
on  their  behalf — in  afterwards  quickening  them 
by  his  Spirit — in  the  bestowment  of  grace, 
and  in  causing  all  things  to  work  together 
for  their  good  till  he  bring  them  to  glory, 
'  Herein  is  love  ;  not  that  we  loved  God,  but 
that  he  loved  us,  and  sent  his  Son  to  be  the 
propitiation  for  our  sins — What  shall  we  then 
say  to  these  things  ?  If  God  be  for  us,  who 
can  be  against  us  ?  He  that  spared  not  his  own 
Son,  but  delivered  him  up  for  us  all,  how 
shall  he  not  with  him  also  freely  give  us 
all  things ! — Who  shall  lay  any  thing  to  the 
charge  of  God's  elect?  it  is  God  that  justifieth. 
Who  is  he  that  condemneth  ?  it  is  Christ  that 
died,  yea,  rather,  that  is  risen  again,  who  is 
even  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  who  also  ma- 
keth  intercession   for   us — Who  shall  separate 


204  THE    REFUGE. 

rate  us  from  the  love  of  Christ  ?  shall  tribula- 
tion, or  distress,  or  persecution,  or  famine,  or 
nakedness,  or  peril,  or  sword  ?  Nay,  in  all  these 
things  we  are  more  than  conquerors  through 
him  that  loved  us.  For  I  am  persuaded  that, 
neither  death,  nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor  princi- 
palities, nor  powers,  nor  things  present,  nor 
things  to  come,  !nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any 
other  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from 
the  love  of  God  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our 
Lord.' 

As,  therefore,  we  have  such  indubitable 
evidence  of  the  everlasting  love  of  God  to 
sinners,  wherefore  dost  thou  doubt  ?  O  thou  of 
little  faith!  Let  me  say  to  you,  Lavinia,  as 
Jesus  did  to  the  ruler  of  the  synagogue,  fear 
tiot — only  believe — and  thou  shalt  be  made 
v/hole.  When  the  ancient  Israelites  in  the  wil- 
derness were  bitten  by  the  fiery  serpents,  Moses, 
you  remember,  v/as  commanded  to  make  a 
brasen  serpent — to  set  it  upon  a  pole,  and, 
to  tell  every  one  who  was  bitten,  that  if  he 
looked  upon  it  he  should  live.  Nov/,  if  in- 
stead of  instantly  looking  at  this   serpent,  the 


^«     wound 


THE  REFUGE.  20^ 


I 


I 


wounded  Israelite  had  stood  reasoning-  with 
himself  about  the  malignant  nature  of  his 
wound,  or  querying  whether  the  means  of  re- 
covery were  adapted  to  the  end ;  or  whether  a 
cure  might  not  be  effected  some  other  way,  he 
w^ould  have  paid  very  dear  for  his  ungrateful 
hesitancy.  The  healing  of  his  body  w^as  con- 
nected wath  implicit  and  prompt  obedience  to 
the  divine  command  :  it  was  the  only  method 
prescribed  for  relief;  and  had  the  command 
been  disregarded,  he  must  inevitably  have  pe- 
rished. 

Now,  thus  it  is,  in  a  spiritual  sense,  with 
the  soul.  It  is  by  nature  the  subject  of  moral 
evil,  extremely  depraved,  and  obnoxious  to  fi- 
nal perdition  :  and  from  this  perdition  there  is 
no  possibility  of  escape,  except  in  the  way 
that  infinite  mercy  has  graciously  provided. 
What  that  way  is,  we  learn  from  the  lips  of  him 
who  said,  I  am  the  way,  and  the  truth,  and 
the  life  ;  and  of  w^hom  the  brazen  serpent  was 
a  striking  figure.  '  As  Moses  lifted  up  the 
serpent  in  the  w^ilderness,'  said  the  compas- 
sionate Saviour,  '  even  so  must  the  Son  of  man 


206  THE  REFUGE. 

be  lifted  up  ;  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him, 
should  not  perish,  but  have  eternal  life. 
For  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his 
only  begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in 
him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life 
— He  that  believeth  on  him  is  not  condemned  : 
but  he  that  believeth  not  is  condemned  already: 
because  he  hath  not  believed  in  the  name  of  the 
only  begotten  Son  of  God.'  Now,  this  Jesus  has, 
according  to  his  own  declaration,  been  lifted  up 
on  the  cross,  as  was  the  serpent  on  a  pole  in 
the  desart ;  and  he  is  still  exhibited  in  the  gos- 
pel as  crucified — as  the  only  way  of  escape 
from  everlasting  ruin — as  the  only  medium  of 
human  happiness.  *  Neither  is  there  salvation 
in  any  other  ;  for  there  is  none  other  name 
under  heaven  given  among  men,  whereby  we 
must  be  saved.' 

But  what,  it  may  be  asked,  is  the  language 
of  this  crucified  Saviour  to  perishing  sinners  ? 
does  it  equal  the  language  of  Moses  ?  Yes  : 
it  is  equally  benign,  and  quite  as  encouraging. 
Let  the  trembling  soul  hear,  and  rejoice — 
*  Look  unto  me,  and  be  ye  saved,  all  the  ends 


THE    IIEIUGE.^ 


207 


of  the  earth  :  for  1  am  God,  and  there  is  none 
else — Wherefore  do  ye  spend  money  for  that 
v/hich  is  not  bread,  and  your  labour  for  that 
which  satisfieth  not?  Hearken  diligently  unto 
me,  and  eat  ye  that  which  is  good,  and  let 
your  soul  delight  itself  in  fatness.  Incline 
your  ear,  and  come  unto  me  :  hear,  and  your 
soul  shall  live — I  am  the  bread  of  life  :  he  that 
cometh  to  me  shall  never  hunger ;  and  he  that 
believeth  on  me  shall  never  thirst — I  am  the 
resurrection,  and  the  life  ;  he  that  believeth  in 
me,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live  : 
and  whosoever  liveth  and  believeth  in  me  shall 
never  die — Unto  me  every  knee  shall  bow — 
every  tongue  shall  swear.  Surely,  shall  one 
say,  in  the  Lord  have  I  righteousness  and 
strength :  even  to  him  shall  men  come  ;  and  all 
that  are  incensed  against  him  shall  be  ashamed. 
In  the  Lord  shall  all  the  seed  of  Israel  be  justi- 
fied, and  shall  glory.' 


■ 


Such  is  the  encouraging  answer  given  by  the 
voice  of  benevolence  and  of  truth  to  the  trem- 
bling querist ;  and  nearly  similar  is  the  para- 
phrase    of    a    celebrated     writer    in    replying 


208  THE    REFUGE. 

to  the  same  inquiry.  '  Look  unto  me,  wretched 
ruined  transgressors,  as  the  wounded  Israelites 
looked  unto  the  brazen  serpent.  Look  unto 
me  dying  on  the  cross  as  your  victim,  and 
obeying  the  law  as  your  surety. — Not  by 
doing,  but  by  looking  and  believing;  not  by 
your  own  deeds,  but  by  my  works,  and  my 
suiFerings,  be  ye  saved.  This  is  the  mysteri- 
ous, but  certain  way  of  salvation.  Thus  shall 
ye  be  delivered  from  guilt ;  rescued  from  hell ; 
and  reconciled  to  God.  Who  are  invited  to 
partake  of  this  inestimable  benefit  ?  All  the 
ends  of  the  earth.  People  of  every  nation  un- 
der heaven  ;  of  every  station  in  life ;  of  every 
condition,  and  of  every  character,  not  except- 
ing the  chief  of  sinners. — To  me,  every  knee 
shall  bow.  Every  soul  of  man,  who  desires  to 
inherit  eternal  life,  shall  submit  to  my  righte- 
ousness, and  as  an  unworthy  creature,  as  an 
obnoxious  criminal,  obtain  the  blessing  wholly 
through  my  atonement. — To  me  every  tongue 
shall  swear.  Be  man's  supposed  virtues  ever 
so  various,  or  ever  so  splendid,  all  shall  be  dis^ 
claimed,  and  my  worthiness  alone  shall  stand. 
Renouncing  every  other    trust,  they  shall   re- 


THE  REJUGE.  209 

pose  the  confidence  of  their  souls  on  me  alone, 
and  make  publick  confession  of  this  their  faith 
before  the  world. — Surely  in  the  Lord  have  I 
righteousness  and  strength.  A  righteousness 
without  spot,  without  defect,  and  in  all  respects 
consummate  :  such  as  satisfies  every  require- 
ment of  the  law,  and  most  thoroughly  expiates 
all  my  iniquities.  Such  as  renders  me  com- 
pletely accepted  before  my  judge,  and  entitles 
me  to  everlasting  life.' 

Now  the  sinner,  whose  conscience  is  burden'^ 
ed  with  guilt  and  alarmed  with  danger,  is  not 
to  hesitate — not  to  question  whether  his  sins  be 
too  many  or  too  great  to  be  pardoned  :  because 
this  would  tacitly  impeach  the  divine  veracity; 
but  to  view  the  exhortation  and  the  promise 
made  to  faith — to  look  instantly  to  Jesus,  as  the 
stung  Israelite  did  to  the  brazen  serpent,  no- 
thing doubting — ^viewing  him  as  the  only  means 
appointed  for  relief,  and  firmly  persuaded,  be- 
cause God  hath  said  it,  that  whosoever  looketh 
to  him,  or  beiieveth   in  him,  shall  receive   re- 


210  THE    REFUGE. 

Thus  to  believe,  and  thus  to  act,  is  to  put 
honour  on  the  head  of  Jesus — is  to  treat  him 
as  a  Saviour — to  regard  his  atonement  as  wor- 
thy of  all  acceptation — his  blood  as  cleansing 
from  all  sin:  and  is,  in  fact,  a  renunciation  of 
all  personal  worth  as  being  in  any  degree  the 
ground  of  forgiveness.  It  is  a  practical  decla- 
ration, that  in  the  Lord  only  we  have  righte- 
ousness and  strength,  peace  and  assurance  for 
ever — that  besides  him  there  is  no  Saviour. 

When  the  salvation  of  the  soul  becomes  an 
object  of  attention,  it  is  common  for  uncon- 
verted men  to  ask,  as  did  those  that  followed 
Christ  in  the  days  of  his  humiliation,  What 
shall  we  do,  that  we  might  work  the  works 
of  God?  The  heavenly  blessedness  is  always 
viewed  as  the  reward  of  religious  and  moral 
duties  that  either  have  been,  or  are  to  be,  per- 
formed. But  the  answer  to  this  inquiry  then 
was,  and  still  is;  *  This  is  the  work  of  God, 
that  we  believe  on  him  whom  he  hath  sent.' 
Nor  should  it  ever  be  forgotton,  that  the  sal- 
vation of  the  gospel  is  by  promise ;  which  pro- 


THE  REFUGE*  211 

mise  is  made,  not  to  him  that  worketh;  not  to 
him  that  is  less  vile  than  his  neighbour,  but 
to  faith — to  the  man.,  whatever  be  his  cha- 
racter or  his  conduct,  who  believeth  on  him 
that  justifieth  the  ungodly' — ^to  him  that  sliall 
*  confess  with  his  mouth  the  Lord  Jesus,  and 
that  shall  believe  in  his  heart  that  God  hath 
raised  him  from  the  <lead«  For  with  the  heart 
man  believeth  unto  righteousness  ;  and  with 
the  mouth  confession  is  made  unto  salvation.' 
Whosoever,  therefore,  shall  thus  believe,  and 
thus  confess,  shall,  as  the  scripture  hath  said, 
undoubtedly  be  saved. 

We  are  apt  to  forget,  or  perhaps  do  not 
properly  consider,  that  salvation  originated  in 
the  sovereign  pleasure  of  God — that  it  is  a 
blessing  which  might,  or  might  not  have  been 
conferred  on  the  apostate  sons  of  Adam:  that 
the  forgiveness  of  sin  is  not  in  any  way  con- 
nected with  the  moral  qualifications  they  pos- 
sess, or  the  duties  they  perform,  but  solely  with 
the  work  and  worth  of  his  own  Son,  on  v/hom 
they  have  no  claim,  and  which,  as  a  gift,  is 
graciously  bestowed   on  the  absolutely  unwor- 

T 


212  THE    REFUGi:. 

thy — not  as  meriting  mercy,  but  as  deserving 
eternal  ruin.  It  should  also  be  remembered, 
that  whatever  is  said  concerning  this  salvation, 
is  to  be  cordially  believed  on  divine  testimony, 
without  the  concurrent  evidence  of  our  senses ; 
because  it  is  an  affair  with  which  they  are  not 
Conversant — of  which  they  can  take  no  cogni- 
zance.  The  inestimable  blessing  must  also  be 
regarded  as  allsufficient  for  the  purposes  in- 
tended, and  as  the  only  means  by  which  eter- 
nal hiippiness  can  be  enjoyed — as  free  for  sin- 
ners, Vithout  exception  of  character,  and  as 
infallibly  connected  with  faith.  He,  therefore, 
that  shall  see  the  plague  of  his  own  heart — 
that  shall  acknowledge  it  to  be  deceitful  above 
all  things,  and  desperately  wicked — who  shall 
contemplate  a  life  spent  in  gratifying  the  lust 
of  the  flesh,  the  lust  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride 
of  life — who  shall  feel  his  accumulated  guilt 
as  a  load  that  might  justly  sink  him  into  end- 
less perdition — and  who,  notwithstanding  these 
apparent  discouragements,  shall  believe  with 
his  heart  the  record,  'that  God  hath  given  to 
us  eternal  life,  and  that  this  life  is  in  his  Son — 
that  he  was  delivered  for  our  offences,  and  was 


THE    REFUGli. 


213 


raised  again  for  our  justification — that  his 
blood  cicanseth  from  all  sin — that  his  righte- 
ousness  justifieth  from  all  inic|Uity;'  who  sh:iVi 
gladly  receive  the  cheering  testimor/v,  and  con- 
fide in  that  testimony,  ivi  defiance  of  all  the 
accusations  of  conscience,  the  suggestions  of 
Satan,  the  frowns  or  the  smiles  of  the  world — 
is  strong  in  fciitli,  giving  glory  to  God — lays 
hold  on  eternal  life,  and  shdl  undoubtedly  be 
saved. 

^  For  what  is  evangelical  faith,  says  the 
very  excellent  and  judicious  Booth,  but  the 
receiving  of  Christ  and  his  righteousness?  Or, 
in  other  words,  a  dependence  on  Jesus  only  fot* 
eternal  salvation?  A  dependence  vipon  him  as 
allsufficient  to  save  the  most  guilty;  as  every 
way  suitable  to  supply  the  wants  of  the  most 
needy ;  and  absolutely  free  for  the  vilest  of 
sinners.  The  divine  Redeemer  and  his  fi- 
nished work  being  the  object  of  faith,  and  the 
report  of  the  gospel  its  warrant  and  ground, 
to  believe  is  to  trust  entirely  and  w^ithout  re- 
serve on  the  faithful  word  which  God  hath 
spoken,  and  on  the  perfect  work  which  Christ 


214 


THE    REFUGE. 


hath    wrought.       Such    is    the    faith    of   God's 
elect:  and   happy,    thrice   happy  they  that  are 
bterested   in    this     divine     righteousness,    and 
have    rectfyed    the    atonement!    All    such    are 
pronounced    righted::^    by   the    eternal  Judge. 
There   is  nothing  to  be  laid   to  their  charge. 
They  are  acquitted  with  honour  to  all  the  per- 
fections of  Deity,  and  everlastingly  free-  from 
condemnation.       Their    sins,    though    ever   sO 
tiumerous    or    ever   so    hateful,    being    purged 
away  by  atoning  blood ;  and  their   souls   being 
vested  v»'ith  tliat  most  excellent  robe,  the  Re- 
deemer's righteousness ;  they  are  without  spot, 
or  v/rinkle,  or  any  such  thing.     They  are  pre- 
sented   by   their    great    Representative,    in   the 
body    of   his    flesh,    through   death,    holy,    un- 
blamable,   and    unreprovable    in    the    sight    of 
Omniscience.       They    are    fair    as    the    purest 
wool ;  whiter  than  the  virgin  snow — 7  he  work 
and  worthiness    of   the   Lord    Redeemer  give 
them      acceptance    with    infinite    Majesty    and 
dignity  before  the  angels  of  light.     Works  of 
every  law,    in    every   sense,    as   performed    by 
man,  are   entirely  excluded    from   having    any 
concern   in  our   acceptance   with    God.      Since, 


I 


^m     iro 

k 


THE    REFUGE.  215 

therefore,  it  is  in  Christ  only,  as  our  head,  re- 
presentative and  surety,  that  we  are  or  can  be 
justified;  he  alone  should  have  the  glory.  He 
is  infinitely  worthy  to  have  the  unrivalled 
honour. — Let  the  sinner,  then,  the  ungodly 
wretch,  trust  in  the  obedience  of  the  dying 
Jesus,  as  being  absolutely  sufficient  to  justify 
him,  without  any  good  works  or  duties ;  with- 
out any  good  habits  or  qualities,  however  per- 
formed or  acquired ;  and  eternal  truth  hath  de- 
clared for  his  encouragement,  that  he  shall  not 
be  disappointed,' 

One  reason  why  we  are  so  perplexed  with 
doubts  and  fears  respecting  the  safety  of  our 
state,  is  the  weakness  of  our  faith.  We  look 
more  to  our  sins  than  to  the  Saviour :  and  by 
imagining  that  they  are  too  many  and  too 
great  to  be  pardoned,  depreciate  his  allsuffi- 
cient  atonement.  We  are  not  aware,  perhaps, 
that  by  this  conduct  we  are  in  fact  saying,  in 
opposition  to  scripture  and  experience,  that 
the  blood  of  Christ  doth  not  cleanse  from  all 
sin — that  his  righteousness  doth  not  justify 
from  all  iniquity — that  he  is  not  able  to  save 


T  2 


216  IHE    REFUGE. 

to  the  uttermost — that  he  will  cast  out  some 
that  come  to  him.  The  truth  is,  we  do  not 
habitually  live  under  a  deep  conviction  of  our 
absolute  un worthiness  of  divine  mercy;  of  our 
constant  need  of  forgiveness ;  of  our  utter  help- 
lessness in  the  affair  of  salvation,  and  the  neces- 
sity there  is  of  continual  dependence  on  divine 
aid  to  carry  on  the  work  of  faith  with  power^ 
and  also  to  keep  us  from  falling  a  prey  to  per- 
petual dejection. 

That  a  conviction  of  want  naturally  stimu- 
lates to  action,  is  a  position  that  needs  no 
proof.  A  sense  of  weakness  makes  the  feeble 
solicitous  for  strength.  Guilt,  felt  and  la- 
mented, impels  the  sinner  to  be  urgent  for 
mercy.  Apprehension  of  danger  wings  the 
flight  of  him  that  pants  for  safety.  The  axiom 
is  strikingly  exemplified  in  the  admirable  plea 
of  the  Syrophenician  vfoman.  '  Have  mercy 
on  me,  O  Lord,  thou  Son  of  David;  my  daugh- 
ter is  grievously  vexed  with  a  devil.'  It  is 
true  the  anxious  supplicant  at  first  met  with 
much  discouragement,  but  this  discourage- 
ment only  constrained  her  to  be  more  impor- 


THE  REFUGE.  211^ 

tunate.  She  knew  that  her  child  stood  in  need 
of  assistance  :  and  that  he  to  whom  she  ap- 
plied was  able  to  grant  it ;  and  were  you 
equally  sensible  of  your  spiritual  wants,  and 
equally  solicitous  for  the  heavenly  blessing; 
the  same  Lord  would  say  unto  you,  as  he  did 
unto  her,  O  woman,  great  is  thy  faith  :  be  it 
unto  thee  even  as  thou  wilt. 

On  this  principle  acted  the  blind  man  who 
sat  by  the  way  side  begging  when  our  Lord 
departed  from  Jericho.  The  petitioner  hw^id 
doubtless  heard  of  the  miracles  and  the  bene- 
ficence of  Jesus.  He  was  also  conscious  that 
he  stood  in  need  of  assistance,  and  convinced 
that  the  Saviour  of  men  was  able  to  grant  it : 
and  this  conviction  urged  him  to  cry  out,  say- 
ing, Jesus,  thou  Son  of  David,  have  mercy  on 
me  !  And  they  v/hich  went  before  rebuked 
him,  that  he  should  hold  his  peace  :  but  he 
cried  so  much  the  more,  Thou  Son  of  David, 
have  mercy  on  me  !  And  Jesus  stood,  and  com- 
manded  him  to  be  brought  unto  him :  and 
when  he   vv^as   come  near,   he   asked  him,  say- 


218  THF    REFUGE. 

ing,  What  wilt  thou  that  I  shall  do  unto  thee  ? 
And  he  said,  Lord,  that  I  may  receive  my 
sight.  And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  Receive  thy 
sight :  thy  faith  hath  saved  thee.  And  imme- 
diately he  received  his  sight,  and  followed  him, 
glorifying  God. 

Now  the  injunctions  of  the  multitude  could 
neither  repress  desire  of  relief,  nor  compel 
Bartimeus  to  desist  from  being  importunate  to 
gain  it.  The  aid  he  wanted,  the  people  could 
Aot  give  ;  nor  would  he  suffer  them  to  obstruct 
application  to  him  from  whom  he  knew  it  could 
certainly  be  had.  The  very  attempt  to  impose 
silence  induced  him  to  cry  more  loudly  for  help : 
nor  did  he  cease  to  petition  till  his  petition  was 
granted. 

Thus,  in  reference  to  spiritual  affairs,  every 
man  acts  who  feels  his  depravity  and  guilt; 
who  knows  his  wounds  to  be  incurable,  unless 
he  that  forgiveth  all  our  iniquities,  and  heal- 
eth  all  our  diseases,  have  mercy  on  him.  He 
is  convinced,  as  was  Bartimeus,  that  he  cannot 


THE    REiUGE.  219 

relieve  liimself — that  vain  is  the  helo  of  man  : 
but  he  has  heard,  and  believes,  that  help  is 
laid  en  one  mighty  to  save  ;  and  has,  in  appli- 
cation for  succour,  one  advantage  which  the 
son  of  Timeus  could  not  boast — He  can  plead 
both  the  pov/er  and  the  promise  of  the  Saviour : 
and  therefore,  hov/ever  apparently  many  or 
great  his  discouragements,  to  this  Saviour  he 
ever  looks  for  acceptance  and  pardon.  If 
enormous  guilt  wound  the  conscience  and  for- 
bid his  hope  of  remission,  he  becomes  more 
urgent  for  help.  His  importunity  for  mercy 
is,  in  some  measure,  proportioned  to  the  worth 
of  the  blessing  and  the  danger  of  losing  it.  He 
knows  there  is  forgiveness  with  God  for  the 
chief  of  sinners — that  he  will  in  no  wise  cast 
out  them  that  come  to  him — that  he  never 
said  to  the  seed  of  Jacob,  seek  ye  me  in  vain. 
Under  a  sense  of  vinworthiness  and  weakness, 
he  is  emboldened,  because  commanded,  to  take 
hold  of  Jehovah's  strength  ;  he  says,  therefore, 
wath  Jacob,  I  will  not  let  thee  go,  except  thou 
bless  me — or,  interrogates  with  Peter,  Lord, 
to  whom  shall  I  go  ?  thou  hast  the  w  ords  of 
eternal  life. 


220  THE    KEFUGE. 

Does  the  christian  wait  for  light,  but  be- 
iiold  obscuri  y ;  for  brightness,  but  walk  in 
darkness  ;  he  remembers  him  that  said,  ^  who 
is  among  you  that  feareth  the  Lord,  thnt  obey- 
eth  the  voice  of  his  servant,  that  walketh  in 
darkness,  and  hath  no  light  ?  let  him  trust  in 
the  name  of  the  Lord,  and  stay  upon  his  God.' 
'Though  he  slay  me,  says  the  disconsolate  soul, 
yet  will  I  trust  in  him — *  the  Lord  is  the  God 
of  truth — he  will  not  cast  off  for  ever :  but 
though  he  cause  grief,  yet  will  he  have  com- 
passion according  to  the  multitude  of  his 
mercies.' 

Of  the  strength  of  faith,  and  the  power  of 
unbelief,  we  have  a  striking  instance  in  thf* 
conduct  of  Peter.  The  apostle,  with  other 
disciples,  ^  was  in  a  ship  in  the  midst  of  the 
sea,  tossed  with  waves  :  for  the  wind  was  con- 
trary. And  in  the  fourth  watch  of  the  night 
Jesus  went  unto  them,  walking  on  the  sea.  And 
when  the  disciples  saw  him  walking  on  the 
sea,  they  were  troubled,  saying.  It  is  a  spirit ; 
and  they  cried  out  for  fear.  But  straightway 
Jesus   spake  unto   them,    saying,    Be   of  good^ 


THE    REFUGE.  221 

cheer  ;  it  is  I ;  be  not  afraid.  And  Peter  an- 
swered him,  and  said,  Lord,  if  it  be  thou,  bid 
me  come  unto  thee  on  the  water.  And  he  said, 
Come.  And  when  Peter  was  come  down  out 
of  the  ship,  he  walked  on  the  water,  to  go  to 
Jesus.  But  when  he  saw  the  wind  boisterous, 
he  was  afraid  ;  and  beginning  to  sink,  he  cried, 
saying,  Lord,  save  me.  And  immediately  Jesus 
stretched  forth  his  hand,  and  caught  him,  and 
said  unto  him,  O  thou  of  little  faith,  wherefore 
didst  thou  doubt  ?' 

Now,  you  will  be  pleased  to  remember,  that 
the  command  of  Christ  was  Peter's  warrant  for 
v'enturing  on  the  agitated  lake  of  Tiberias. 
Without  this  command  the  attempt  would 
have  been  presumptuous  in  the  extreme :  and, 
had  he  kept  that  in  view  during  the  perilous 
excursions,  instead  of  the  winds  and  the  waves, 
he  would  have  reached  the  object  of  his  confi- 
dence without  alarms  of  danger,  or  manifest- 
ing symptoms  of  distrust.  It  is  said,  indeed, 
that  the  wind  M^as  boisterous  ;  and  on  a  cursory 
survey  of  the  passage,  it  seems  as  if  this  cir- 
cumstance alone  had  occasioned  his  fears  :  but 
it    is    much    xnojcQ    consistent   with    the   divine 


222  THE  refugj:. 

narrative,  and  the   rebuke   with   which  he  was 
afterwards    accosted,    to  attribute    these    fears 
chiefly  to   his  unbelief.     The  wind  appears   to 
have  been  high  during  great  part  of  the  night, 
andv»^as,  most  probably,  tempestuous  at  the  time 
of  Christ's   appearance  :  but  were  it  allowed  to 
be  otherwise  at  the  instant  of  Peter's  debarka- 
tion, this  would  only  be   admitting  an  apology 
for  his  timidity  at  the  expense  of  his  understand- 
ing.    For  he  could  not  be  so  ignorant  as  to  ima- 
gine that  the   watery  element  was   more    solid 
because  less  turbulent :  and  he  must  hc^ve  known 
that  the  power  which   was  able  to  consolidate 
the  sea  in    a  calm,  was  also  able    to  make  the  • 
foaming  surge  firm  as  adamant.     The    fact   is, 
the  renowned   Cephas  forgot  his  own  request, 
and  also  the  command  and  the  almighty  power 
of  his    Lord.      He   began   to   look    at    second 
causes — to  reflect,  perhaps,  that  he  had  preci- 
pitately left  the  bark  where  safety  might  have 
been  reasonably  expected,  and  was  attempting 
to  tread  on  a  wave  that  threatened  to  ingulf  him 
in  a  moment. 

Nov/,  thus    it    frequently    happens    with   the 
trembling   sinner  that  is  awakened   to  a  sense 


THE    REFUGE.  223 

of  his  danger ;  and  who,  as  a  wretch  that  de- 
serves to  perish,  is  encouraged  to  rely  on  Christ, 
as  a  complete  Saviour  from  the  guilt  of  sin, 
and  from  the  curse  of  the  divine  law  which  he 
is  conscious  of  having  violated  in  a  thousand 
instances.  The  invitation  and  the  promise  ex- 
hibited to  the  dejected  and  burdened  suppli- 
ant are  not  suspended  on  the  performance  of 
certain  conditions,  or  on  the  conscious  posses- 
sion of  holy  qualities.  It  is  not  said,  look  in- 
to yourselves,  or  to  something  you  have  done, 
either  to  merit,  or  to  predispose  you  to  receive 
my  salvation ;  but — '  look  unto  me,  and  be 
saved,  all  the  ends  of  the  earth — 1  am  the 
Lord ;  and  beside  me  there  is  no  Saviour — 
I'hou  hast  destroyed  thyself;  but  in  me  is 
thine  help— I,  even  I,  am  he  that  blotteth  out 
thy  transgressions  for  mine  own  sake,  and  will 
not  remember  thy  sins — come  unto  me,  all  ye 
that  labour  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will 
give  you  rest.  Take  my  yoke  upon  you,  and 
I  learn  of  me ;  for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  in 
heart ;  and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto  your  souls — 

I  Him  that  cometh  unto  me  I  will  in  no  wise 
cast  out — Verilv,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  he 
I 


224  THE    REFUGE. 

that  heareth  my  word,  and  believeth  on  him 
that  sent  me,  hath  everlasting  life,  and  shall  not 
come  into  condemnation;  but  is  passed  from 
death  unto  life.' 

Now,  instead  of  attending  entirely  to  these 
encouraging  declarations,  the  selfcondemned 
sinner  is  apt  to  contemplate  the  magnitude  of 
his  guilt — ^to  stand  questioning  whether  it 
be  not  to6  enormous  to  be  forgiven  :  or,  on 
the  other  hand,  whether,  if  pardonable,  he  be 
sufficiently  humbled  to  receive  the  astonishing 
favour.  But  this  is  to  act  the  part  of  Peter 
—-to  look  at  sin  and  its  guilt  (as  he  did  at 
the  wind  and  the  waves)  instead  of  the  Sa- 
viour— to  regard  the  suggestions  of  unbelief 
more  than  the  invitation  and  the  promise.  The 
question  in  this  case  is  not,  whether  my  sins 
be  great,  or  comparatively  small — not  whether 
I  have  attained  a  certain  degree  of  humiliation, 
and  am  conscious  that  my  compunction  is  pro- 
portioned to  my  guilt;  but  whether  Christ 
have  not  unequivocally  declared,  without  any 
reference  to  the  depth  of  my  contrition,  or  the 
magnitude  of  my  sin,   '  Him  that  cometh  un- 


THE    REFUGi:.  205 

to  me  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out  ? — Whosoever 
liveth  and  believeth  in  me  shall  never  die — 
Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  he  that  heareth 
my  word,  and  believeth  on  him  that  sent  me, 
hath  everlasting  life,  and  shall  not  come  into 
condemnation  ;  but  is  passed  from  death  unto 
life — he  shall  never  perish.'  Now,  if  this  be 
true  ;  if  Jesus  have  made  these  infinitely  gra- 
cious  declarations,  the  trembling  sinner  is  not 
to  hesitate,  but  confidently  to  believe  the  soul- 
cheering  testimony — to  come  to  him  as  a  vile 
sinner — as  a  wretch  that  deserves  to  perish — 
and  without  looking  into  himself  for  any  pre- 
^ites  in  order  to  the  reception  of  mercy, 
[t  his  burden  of  guilt  upon  Christ  as  a 
ring  Saviour,  looking  to  his  atonement 
as  the  only  ground  of  forgiveness  ;  knovring 
and  believing,  that  what  he  hath  said,  he  w  ill 
most  assuredly  perform.  This  is  to  receive  by 
faith  the  testimony  of  God  concerning  his  Son, 
rather  than  that  of  man — than  of  Satan — than 
of  the  clamorous  accusations  of  a  guilty  con- 
science ;  and  to  give  glory  to  the  expiation  of 
him  that  once  suffered  for  sin — the  just  for  the 
unjust,  that  he  might  bring  us  to  God. 


226  THE  REFUGE. 

But  though  the  divine  declarations  respect- 
ing salvation  by  Jesus  Christ,  are  exactly  suit- 
ed to  the  wretched  condition  of  man,  and 
adapted  to  produce  hope  and  excite  confidence ; 
yet  they  seldom  meet  with  implicit  credit,  or 
at  least,  are  rarely  viewed  as  exhibiting  all  that 
is  necessary  to  exempt  from  condemnation  and 
from  death.  There  is  in  the  hearts  of  all  natu- 
ral men  a  propensity  to  expect  deliverance  by 
the  deeds  of  the  law :  and  there  are,  perhaps,, 
but  few  christians  in  whom  the  same  legal  prin- 
ciple does  not,  more  or  less,  imperceptibly 
operate. 

Whence  originates  that  distrust  of  forgive- 
ness with  which  many  of  those  who  have  been 
eminent  for  vice  are  perpetually  harrassed,  but 
from  a  consciousness  of  enormous  guilt  ?  It  is 
not,  in  this  case,  my  being  a  sinner  merely,  but 
my  being  so  great  a  sinner,  that  is  the  ground 
of  discouragement ;  which  is  virtually  saying, 
were  I  less  guilty,  I  should  have  more  hope. 
But  this  conclusion  is  fallacious.  It  is  true,  I 
may  have  been  notoriously  profligate,  and  when 
contrasted  with  others,  a  monster  in  wicked* 


I 


THE  REFUGE.  227 

ness  ;  but  it  should  be  remembered  that  the 
commission  of  one  sin,  though  not  attended 
with  the  same  degree  of  guilt,  nor  deserving 
the  same  punishment,  will  as  certainly  bar  the 
way  to  heaven  as  the  perpetration  of  a  thou- 
sand. The  felicity  first  promised  to  man,  was 
connected  with  perfect  obedience  to  the  divine 
precept.  The  question,  therefore,  is — Am  I  a 
transgressor  ?  If  so  ;  I  am  excluded  from  all 
hope  of  pardon  on  the  ground  of  personal  de- 
sert. The  law  of  God,  as  a  covenant  pro- 
mising life,  is  abrogated  ;  and  the  only  conceria 
it  has  with  me  as  a  sinner,  is  to  denounce 
sentence  of  death.  Future  blessedness  is,  there- 
fore, as  far  out  of  the  reach  of  the  comparatively 
virtuous,  as  the  completely  vicious.  Neither 
of  them  can  obtain  it  on  the  ground  of  merit. 
If  candidates  for  divine  favour,  they  must 
both  stand  indebted  to  absolute  grace :  and 
as  it  is  no  more  difficult  w4th  God  to  remit, 
in  virtue  of  an  atonement,  enormous  than 
trivial  oifcnces,  the  most  abandoned  wretch 
has,  when  applying  for  mercy,  the  same  founda- 
tion on  which  to  build  his  hope,  and  as  much 
encouragement  to  expect  forgiveness,  as  he 
V  2 


228  THE  REFUGE. 

that  may  be  properly  denominated  the  least  of 
sinners.  The  one,  indeed,  will  have  much  for- 
given, and  should  endeavour  to  proportion  his 
gratitude  to  the  benefit  received  ;  but  the  other 
will,  notwithstanding,  have  to  ascribe  his  salva- 
tion to  the  same  source,  and  be  under  equal 
obligation  to  adore  the  hand  which,  if  it  have 
not  rescued  him  from  the  same  depths  of 
iniquity,  has  nevertheless  graciously  restrained 
him  from  the  desire,  or  the  opportunity  of 
committing  it. 

The  awakened  sinner  is  apt  to  imagine  that 
it  is  great  presumption  to  come  to  God  for 
pardon  in  his  natural  defilement.  He,  there- 
fore, looks  into  himself  for  a  pious  turn  of  heart, 
or  for  something  to  recommend  him  to  mercy. 
But  such  a  conduct  is  offensive  to  God.  This 
is  not  to  consider  ourselves  as  possessing  no- 
thing— as  deserving  nothing — '  as  wretched, 
and  miserable,  and  poor,  and  blind,  and  naked.' 
We  do  that  which  is  pleasing  in  his  sight, 
when  we  believe  on  his  Son,  Jesus  Christ — 
when  we  come  as  sinners  for  pardon  through 
his  blood.     This   is  a   practical   confession  of 


THE    REI 


229 


guilt.  It  is,  in  fact,  saying,  Lord,  I  am  vile  ; 
magnify  thy  great  name  in  my  forgiveness — I 
am  helpless  ;  do  thou  undertake  for  me — in 
myself,  I  am  entirely  lost ;  do  thou  save  me  ! 
Or,  in  other  words — I  feel  and  acknowledge, 
O  Lord,  that  whatever  the  scriptures  have  said 
concerning  sin  and  its  consequences,  is  per- 
fectly just.  I  see  that  Jesus  Christ  is  the  only 
Saviour ;  '  that  there  is  none  other  name  under 
heaven  given  among  men,  whereby  we  must 
be  saved.'  Therefore,  merciful  Father,  spare, 
for  his  sake,  a  detestable  wretch  that  is  com- 
pletely miserable — glorify  thy  grace — thy  Son 
— his  work — ^his  worthiness — in  saving  a  crimi- 
nal that  deserves  to  perish.  His  blood  cleans- 
eth  from  all  sin  :  his  righteousness  justifieth 
from  all  iniquity :  O  help  me  to  confide  in  him 
only — ^to  ascribe  to  him  all  the  glory  of  my 
deliverance  from  condemnation  and  from  ruin. 
Suppress — for  ever  suppress  the  thought  that 
would  attempt  to  divide  or  diminish  his  praise. 
His  own  arm  has  brought  salvation — from 
henceforth,  therefore,  let  me  never  lose  sight 
for  one  moment  of  my  own  poverty  and 
wretchedness,  nor  of  the  allsufficiency  of    hi? 


230  THE  REFUGE. 

atonement.  This  is  the  foundation  of  my 
trust,  the  ground  of  my  confidence  ;  that  by 
which  my  faith  is  strengthened,  my  hope 
abounds,  and  by  which  I  am  encouraged  to 
enter  daily  with  boldness  into  the  holiest  of 
alL 

If  the  Lord  have  laid  our  iniquities  upon 
Christ — if  he  have  been  made  sin  and  a  curse 
for  us — If  he  have  indeed  been  wounded  for 
our  transgressions  and  bruised  for  our  ini- 
quities ;  and  have  really  paid  the  price  of  our 
redemption — surely  every  attempt  to  obtain 
forgiveness  in  any  other  way  must  be  highly 
offensive  to  the  Majesty  of  heaven.  Thus  to 
act,  is  not  to  glorify  his  wisdom  in  providing 
this  way  of  escape  from  ruin,  nor  the  work  of 
him  who  is  styled  emphatically  the  Way — ^but 
to  disparage  both  the  one  and  the  other.  It 
is,  as  the  justly  celebrated  Owen  expresses  it, 
'  to  take  the  work  out  of  Christ's  hands  and 
ascribe  salvation  to  other  things — to  repent- 
ance— to  duties.  Men  do  not  say  so,  but  they 
do  so.  The  commutation  they  make,  if  they 
make  any,  is  with  themselves.     The  work  that 


THE    REFUG£.  231 


I 


Christ  came  to  do  in  the  world,  was  to  bear 
our  iniquities,  and  to  lay  down  his  life  a  ran- 
som for  our  sins.  What  greater  dishonour  then 
can  be  done  to  the  Lord  Jesus,  than  to  ascribe 
this  work  to  any  thing  else  ?' 

The  ever  blessed  God,  who  is  perfectly  ac- 
quainted with  the  malignant  nature  of  sin,  and 
with  its  natural  tendency  to  generate  in  the 
human  heart  distrust  of  all  that  is  said  in  re- 
ference to  forgiveness,  has  mercifully  left  on 
record  many  exceeding  great  and  precious  pro- 
mises adapted  to  counteract  its  pernicious  in- 
fluence, and  to  administer  strong  consolation 
to  those  that  have  fled  for  refuge  to  lay  hold 
on  the  hope  set  before  them  in  the  gospel. 
What  objection  of  unbelief  has  not  divine 
goodness  anticipated  and  completely  answered  ? 
and  yet  how  reluctant  are  we  implicitly  to  re- 
gard these  answers  as  affording  incontestable 
proof  that  there  is  forgiveness  with  God,  or 
at  least  of  there  being  forgiveness  for  the  no- 
toriously profligate.  What  more  common  than 
to  hear  the  awakened  sinner  reasoning  thus  : 
My  sins   are  of  so  peculiar  a  nature — -the  cir* 


232  THE    REFUGE. 

cumstances  attending  them  so  aggravating- — 
rny  guilt  so  complicated — nay,  there  is  not  a 
sin  that  I  have  not  actually  or  intentionally 
committed — ^the  Almighty,  who  is  of  purer 
e^'^es  than  to  behold  iniquity,  can  never  forgive 
such  a  detestable  wretch,  much  less  make  him 
an  inheritor  of  glory. 

But  what  does  the  God  of  Israel  say  to  such 
sinners  and  to  such  objections?  Does  he  spurn 
them  from  his  presence  as  filthy  and  loath- 
some, and  consign  them  to  the  abodes  of  ever- 
lasting darkness  and  despair?  No;  the  answer 
is  astonishingly  benign  and  infinitely  gracious. 
I^et  the  sinner  hear — attentively  hear  and  re- 
joice— '  Come  now,  and  let  us  reason  together, 
saith  the  Lord:  though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet, 
they  shall  be  as  white  as  snow  ;  though  they 
be  red  like  crimson,  they  shall  be  as  woq|!^I, 
even  I  am  he  that  blotteth  out  thy  transgres; 
sions  for  mine  own  sake,  and  will  not  remem- 
ber thy  sins — O  Israel,  thou  shalt  not  be  for- 
gotten of  me.  I  have  blotted  out,  as  a  thick 
cloud,  thy  transgressions,  and,  as  a  cloud,  thy 
sins:    return   unto   mc,   for   I  have   redeemed 


I 


THE    REFUGE.  233 

thee — The  iniquity  of  Israel  shall  be  sought 
for,  and  there  shall  be  none ;  and  the  sins  of 
Judah,  and  they  shall  not  be  found.' 

This  is  the  language  of  mercy  and  benevo- 
lence indeed!  Surely  we  may  say  with  the 
prophet,  'Who  is  a  God  like  unto  thee^  that 
pardoneth  iniquity,  and.  passeth  by  the  trans- 
gression of  the  remnant  of  his  heritage  ?  He 
retaineth  not  his  anger  for  ever,  because  he 
delighteth  in  mercy.  He  will  turn  again  ;  he 
will  have  compassion  upon  us ;  he  will  subdue 
our  iniquities;  and  cast  all  our  sins  into  the 
depths  of  the  sea — Sing,  O  ye  heavens  ;  for 
the  Lord  hath  done  it :  shout,  ye  lower  parts  of 
the  earth  :  break  forth  into  singing,  ye  moun- 
tains, O  forest,  and  every  tree  therein  :  for  the 
Lord  hath  redeemed  Jacob,  and  glorified  him- 
self in  Israel,' 

V/e  are  apt  to  forget  that  the  grace  of  God 
in  the  promises  is  not  made  to  such  as  deserve 
mercy,  but,  as  one  expresses  it,  '  to  such  as 
want  it;  not  to  righteous  persons,  but  to  sin- 
ners ;  not  to  the  whole,  but  to  the  sick.     Such, 


234  THE  REFUGE, 

therefore,  who  through  the  weakness  of  faith, 
or  the  violence  of  temptation,  find  it  difficuk 
to  lay  hold  on  the  promises  which  respect  the 
pardon  of  sin,  and  the  attaining  life  and  sal- 
vation, should  remember  that  the  root  and 
principle  from  whence  the  promises  spring  is 
not  from  any  good  within  us,  but  wholly  from 
grace  without  us — That  from  the  beginning  to 
the  end  of  our  salvation,  nothing  is  primarily 
active  but  free  grace.  All  the  promises  of 
God  are  made  in  Christ,  and  derive  their  cer- 
tainty and  stability  from  him  in  whom  they  are 
made — not  from  us  to  whom  they  are  made  : 
they  are  all  ratified  with  the  same  oath,  and 
purchased  by  the  same  blood,  and  are,  there- 
fore, sure  to  all  the  seed,  and  it  is  neither  the 
magnitude  nor  the  multitude  of  our  sins  that 
precludes  hope  of  forgiveness.' 

Turn,  therefore,  to  Christ  the  strong  hold, 
thou  prisoner  of  hope  !  Why  sayest  thou,  ^  My 
way  is  hid  from  the  Lord,  and  my  judgment 
is  passed  over  from  my  God  ?  Hast  thou  not 
known,  hast  thou  not  heard,  that  the  everlast- 
ing God,  the  Lord,  the  Creator  of  the  ends  of 


I 


THE  REFUGE.  235 

the   earth,  fainteth  not,  neither  is  weary  i  Hfi 
giveth   power   to  the  faint;   and  to  them  that 
have  no  might  he   increaseth  strength.     Even 
the  youths  shall  faint  and  be  weary,  and  the 
young  men    shall   utterly  fall:    But   they  that 
wait  upon  the  Lord  shall  renew  their  strength ; 
they   shall    mount    up    with  wings    as    eagles  ; 
they  shall   run,  and   not  be    weary ;    and  they 
shall    walk,    and    not    faint — The    Lord    hath 
called  thee  as  a  woman  forsaken  and   grieved 
in  spirit — -for  a  small  moment  have  I  forsaken 
thee  ;    but   with    great   mercies    will    I    gather 
thee.     In   a  little   wrath   I  hid    my  face  from 
thee  ;  but  with  everlasting  kindness  will  I  have 
mercy  on  thee,  saith  the  Lord  thy  Redeemer — 
The   mountains   shall   depart,  and  the   hills  be 
removed  ;    but    my   kindness   shall   not    depart 
from   thee,    neither   shall   the    covenant  of  my 
peace   be    removed,  saith    the    Lord  that  hath 
mercy  on  thee.'    In  patience,  therefore,  possess 
your  soul ;   '  For  yet  a  little  while,  and  he  that 
shall    come    will    come,    and   will    not  tarry — 
Fear  not ;  for  thou  shalt  not  be  ashamed  :  nei- 
ther  be   thou    confounded;  for   thy   Maker   is 
thy  husband ,  the  Lord  of  Hosts   is  his  naijie  ; 

X 


236  THE    REFUGE. 

'and  thy  Redeemer,  the  Holy  One  of  Israel  ;  the 
God  of  the  whole  earth  shall  he  be  called.  No 
weapon  that  is  fornmed  against  thee  shall  pros- 
per; and  every  tongue  that  shall  rise  against 
thee  in  judgment  thou  shalt  condemn.  This 
is  the  heritage  of  the  servants  of  the  Lord, 
and  their  righteousness  is  of  me,  saith  the 
Lord.' 

Such  are  the  declarations,  and  such  the  pro- 
mises left  on  record  to  -support  the  believer 
^  under  the  anxieties  and  temptations  of  the 
present  life.  Language  more  benign  and  gra- 
cious, more  replete  with  sympathetick  tender- 
ness and  mercy,  with  unbounded  goodness 
and  affection,  cannot  be  easily  selected :  and 
were  it  not  known  that  sin  has  a  natural  ten- 
dency to  produce  in  the  conscience  terrour  and 
distrust,  it  would  not  be  hastily  believed  that 
the  heart  that  had  once  realized  the  consola- 
tion of  forgiveness,  could  again  become  the 
subject  of  doubt.  The  christian,  however, 
should  remember,  that  whatever  be  the  degree 
of  his  guilt  or  his  misery ;  however  great  and 
numerous  his  fears ;  however  many  and  appa- 


i 


THE  REFUGE.  237 

rently  insurmountable  the  obstacles  that  stand 
in  the  way  of  his  future  blessedness,  he  has 
indubitable  evidence  that  he  shall  finally  possess 
it.  The  almighty  power  and  faithfulness  of  God 
stand  pledged  that  nothing  shall  frustrate  his 
hopes.  He  may  say  to  his  soul,  in  the  midst  of 
all  the  storms  and  vicissitudes  of  time, 

*  The  stars  shall  fade  away,  the  sun  himself 
Grow  dim  with  age,  and  nature  sink  in  years  j 
But  thou  shalt  flourish  in  immortal  youth. 
Unhurt  amidst  the  war  of  elements. 
The  wreck  of  matter,  asd  the  crush  of  worlds/ 

I  am  yours,  &c» 


238  THE    REFUGE. 


LETTER  VII. 


ILa  c  angels  slnn'd,  and  shall  not  man  beware  ? 
How  shall  a  son  of  earth  decline  the  snare  ? 
Not  folded  urint,  and  slackness  of  the  niind^ 
Can  promise  for  the  tfafety  of  mankind  : 
None  life  8ui>inely  good :  thro'  care  and  pain. 
And  various  art*>  the  steep  ascent  we  gain. 
This  is  the  seat  of  combat^  not  of  rest ; 
Man's  is  laborious  happiness  at  best. 
Oii  this  aide  death  his  dangers  never  cease. 
His  joys  uic  joys  of  conquest,  not  of  peace. 


YOUNG. 


1  HAT  the  Lord  hath  been  to  you,  '  as  the 
light  of  the  morning,  when  the  sun  riseth, 
even  a  morning  without  clouds,'  affords  me 
unspeakable  pleasure,  and  for  which  I  devout- 
ly join  with  you  in  grateful  acknowledgments 
to  the  Father  of  mercies.  With  you  it  is  no 
longer  difficult  to  believe  that,  though  weeping 
may  endure  for  a  night,  joy  cometh  in  the 
morning ;  nor  that  chastening,  though  grie- 
vous for  the  present,  nevertheless  afterward 
yieldeth  the  peaceable  fruit  of  righteousness 
to   them   that    are    exercised   thereby,     Alas  ! 


THE  REFUGE.  239 

how  slow  of  heart  are  we  to  believe  what  pro- 
phets and  apostles  have  said  concerning  the 
salvation  of  God;  and  even  what  he  testified 
of  it,  who  is  the  true  and  faithful  Witness, 
and  who  spoke  as  never  man  spoke. 

Whether  that  peace  of  conscience  you  hap- 
pily experience,  through  faith  in  the  atone- 
ment, will  meet  with  no  interruption  is  not  my 
province  to  determine.  For  such  is  the  de- 
generacy of  human  nature,  and  such  the  base 
ingratitude  of  the  human  heart,  that  incidents 
the  most  trifling  sometimes  divert  attention 
from  the  one  thing  needfjil,  and  too  frequently 
betray  into  actions  which  involve  guilt,  and 
which,  of  course,  deprive  us  of  that  tranquil- 
lity which  is  enjoyed  in  communion  with  God. 
Gratitude  is  not  the  characteristick  of  man.  We 
are  prone  to  be  unmindful  of  benefits  received 
— ^to  lose  sight  of  our  perpetual  obligations  to 
divine  goodness ;  and  in  the  hour  of  torpid 
indifference,  lightly  to  esteem  the  Rock  of  sal- 
vation.  If,  therefore,  Sve  forsake  his  law, 
and  walk  not  in  his  judgments  ;  if  we  break 
his  statutes.,  and  keep  not  his  commandments  ;' 
X  2 


240  THE  REFUGE* 

it  may  reasonably  be  expected  that  he  will  '  visit 
our  transgression  with  the  rod,  and  our  iniquity 
with  stripes — that  we  shall  know  and  see  it 
Is  an  evil  thing  and  bitter  to  forsake  the  Lord 
God,  in  whose  favour  there  is  life,  and  whose 
loving  kindness  is  better  than  life.' 

But,  supposing  there  were  in  the  christian's 
conduct  no  deviation  from  the  path  of  recti- 
tude ;  that,  in  duty,  the  eye  were  always  sin- 
gle ;  that  the  honour  of  God  were  kept  constantly 
in  view,  and  that  his  prospects  of  interest 
in  divine  favour  were  never  clouded ;  yet  must 
he  expect  to  meet  with  many  things  to  try  his 
faith  and  interrupt  his  quiet.  Is  it  probable 
that  a  sinner,  recently  delivered  from  the 
power  of  darkness,  and  translated  into  the 
kingdom  of  God's  dear  Son,  should  not  meet 
with  temptations  and  assaults  in  consequence 
of  allegiance  to  his  new  Sovereign  ?  Can  it  be 
reasonably  imagined  that  a  man  devoted  to 
sensuality — who  sought  all  his  happiness  in 
gratifying  the  lust  of  the  flesh,  the  lust  of  the 
eyes,  and  the  pride  of  life;  who  perhaps  was 
uncommonly  assiduous  to  involve  all  his  com- 


f  THE  REFUGE.  241 

[Sntons  in  the  same  guilt,  and  v/as  himself 
always  foremost  in  the  paths  of  death:  is  it 
imaginable,  I  ask,  that  such  a  man  should 
H|  relinquish  his  criminal  pursuits,  abandon  the 
society  of  those  whom  he  had  perhaps  ruined, 
or  rendered  vicious  by  his  example  and  his  coun- 
sel, and  not  meet  with  contempt,  with  ridi- 
cule or  with  slander  ?  His  associates  in  wick- 
edness will  not  fail  to  mark  the  alteration  of 
his  conversation  and  his  conduct ;  but  as  they 
have  no  perception  of  the  principles  by  which 
he  is  actuated,  they  will  attribute  both  to  im- 
proper motives — ^to  pharisaical  pride  or  sancti- 
monious ostentation.  His  deportment  will  be 
construed  into  a  tacit  reprehension  of  their 
sinful  practices;  and,  when  contrasted  with 
what  he  himself  once  was,  denominated  hypo- 
critical or  enthusiastick. 

Now,  if  this  be  the  case  between  man  and 
man,  what  may  not  the  christian  expect  from 
the  implacable  malignity  of  Satan  ?  He  has  lost 
a  subject  that  was  once  vigilant  and  active : 
his  government  is  renounced.  Implicit  sub- 
jection to  his  authority  is  no  longer  practicable » 


242  THE    REFUGE. 

He  is  treated  as  a  vile  usurper,  and  all  compli- 
ance with  his  suggestions  considered  as  actual 
rebellion  against  God.  This  indefatigable  ad- 
versary of  man,  walketh  about  as  a  roaring 
lion,  seeking  whom  he  may  devour  :  and  though 
he  be  convinced  of  never  having  yet  been  able 
to  destroy  one  of  the  subjects  of  Christ's  king- 
dom, yet  such  is  the  inveteracy  of  his  malice, 
that  he  continually  labours  to  subvert  their 
allegiance,  to  betray  them  into  sin,  and  ever 
afterwards  to  harass  them  with  guilt. 

■*. ' 
That  afflictions  are  not  in  themselves  joy- 
ous, but  grievous,  will  on  all  hands  be  readily 
allowed :  but  that  to  man,  in  the  present  life, 
they  have  a  salutary  tendency,  is  a  truth  which 
may  not,  perhaps,  be  received  with  the  same 
implicit  credit.  We  are  told,  however,  by  one 
who  was  no  stranger  to  calamity,  that  the 
great  Parent  of  the  universe  doth  not  afflict 
willingly  nor  grieve  the  children  of  men.  In 
the  day  of  prosperity  we  are  commanded  to  be 
joyful,  but  in  the  day  of  adversity  to  consider. 
These  are  hours  in  which  we  may  reflect  on 
the  past,  and  contemplate  the  future  with  ad- 


p 


THE  REFUGE.  243 


vantage  :  in  which  we  may  find  leisure  to  recol- 
lect how  the  mind  was  imperceptibly  drawn 
from  the  paths  of  virtue — to  trace  the  gradual 
progress  of  vice — to  remember  with  what  com- 
punction the  bonds  of  duty  were  first  broken  ; 
how  that  compunction  was  insensibl)^  diminished 
by  a  repetition  of  the  same  sins,  till  at  length 
these  sins,  and  perhaps,  others  more  atrocious, 
were  frequently  committed  without  remorse, 
and  without  shame. 

Were  the  mind  thus  occupied  in  seasons  of 
distress,  we  should  have  some  faint  discoveries 
of  the  malignant  nature  of  moral  evil,  as  well 
as  of  the  degree  of  our  own  guilt  ;  and  instead 
of  murmuring  at  the  hand  by  which  we  were 
stopped  in  the  career  of  vice,  perceive  abun- 
dant cause  to  be  astonished  at  the  long  suffer- 
ing and  forbearance  of  God  !  Each  delinquent 
would  have  reason  to  exclaim  ;  '  it  is  of  the 
Lord's  mercies  that  I  am  not  consumed — Lord, 
pardon  mine  iniquity,  for  it  is  great.'  And 
were  these,  or  similar  expressions,  the  genuine 
language  of  the  heart,  no  abstruse  reasoning 
WOUI4  be  needful  to  prove  that  the  soul  is  in  a 


144  THE    REFUGE. 

situation  not  less  perilous  than  were  those  who, 
in  the  hour  of  distress,  cried  to  the  Saviour  of 
men,  '  Lord,  save  us :  we  perish.' 

But,  whatever  men  of  the  world  may  think 
of  afflictions,  the  christian  has  learned  by  expe- 
rience how  to  estimate  their  worth.  He  can 
say  with  the  psalmist,  '  it  is  good  for  me  that 
I  have  been  afflicted  ;  that  I  might  learn  thy 
statutes — ^before  I  was  afflicted  I  went  astray.* 
He  knows  it  is  '  needful  that  he  should  some- 
times be  in  heaviness  through  manifold  temp- 
tations ;  that  the  trial  of  his  faith,  being  much 
more  precious  than  of  gold  that  perisheth, 
though  it  be  tried  with  fire,  might  be  found 
unto  praise,  and  honour,  and  glory  at  the  ap- 
pearing of  Jesus  Christ.' 

*  Prosperity,  allayed  and  imperfect  as  it  is, 
has  power  to  intoxicate  the  imagination  ;  to  fix 
the  mind  upon  the  present  scene  ;  to  produce 
confidence  and  elation  ;  and  to  make  him  who 
enjoys  affluence  and  honours  forget  the  hand 
by  which  they  were  bestowed.  It  is  seldom 
that  we  are  otherwise,  than  by  affliction,  awa- 


I 


THE  REFUGE.  245 

kened  to  a  sense  of  our  own  imbecility,  or  taught 
to  know  how  little  all  our  acquisitions  can  con- 
duce to  safety  or  to  quiet ;  and  how  justly  we 
may  ascribe  to  the  superintendance  of  a  higher 
power,  those  blessings  which  in  the  wantonness 
of  success  we  considered  as  the  attainments  of 
our  policy  or  courage.' 

Next  to  divine  grace,  '  nothing  confers  so 
much  ability  to  resist  the  temptations  that  per- 
petually surround  us,  as  an  habitual  considera- 
tion of  the  shortness  of  life,  and  the  uncertainty 
of  those  pleasures  that  solicit  our  pursuit ; 
and  this  consideration  can  be  inculcated  only 
by  affliction,  '  O  death  !  how  bitter  is  the 
remembrance  of  thee,  to  a  man  that  lives  at 
ease  in  his  possessions.'  If  our  present  state 
were  one  continued  succession  of  delights,  or 
one  uniform  flow  of  calmness  and  tranquillity, 
we  should  never  willingly  think  upon  its  end  : 
death  would  then  surely  surprise  us  as  '  a  thief 
in  the  night ;'  imd  our  task  of  duty  would  remain 
unfinished,  till  the  night  carne  when  no  man  can 
work. 


246  THE    REFUGi:. 

*  While  affliction  thus  prepares  us  for  feli- 
city, we  may  console  ourselves  under  its  pres- 
sures, by  remembering,  that  they  are  no  parti- 
cular marks  of  divine  displeasure  :  since  all  the 
distresses  of  persecution  have  been  suffered 
by  those  of  whom  the  world  was  not  wor- 
thy ;  and  the  Redeemer  of  niankind  himself 
was  a  man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted  with 
grief.' 

But,  should  the  christian  not  feel  the  weight 
of  personal  afflictions,  there  are,  perhaps,  sources 
of  inquietude  equally  painful,  from  which  he 
cannot  hope  to  escape,  and  for  the  endurance 
of  which  he  will  stand  in  need  both  of  faith 
and  of  patience.  He  will  have  to  wrestle,  not 
merely  against  flesh  and  blood,  '  but  against 
principalities,  against  powers,  against  the  ru- 
lers of  the  darkness  of  this  world,  against 
spiritual  wickedness  in  high  places.  Where- 
fore he  is  commanded  to  put  on  the  whole  ar- 
mour of  God,  that  he  may  be  able  to  stand 
against  the  wiles  of  the  devil — praying  always 
V  ith  all  prayer   and   supplication  in  the  spirit, 


THE    REFUGE.  247 

and  watching  thereunto  with  all  perseverance  :^ 
for  he  that  shall  be  found  so  doing  will  be  able 
to  quench  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked  ;  and 
though  he  may  be  greatly  harassed  in  his  march, 
he  shall  not  be  overcome  ;  though  he  be  cast 
down,  yet  he  shall  arise  ;  and  though  faint  in 
the  conflict,  finally  prevail,  and  be  more  than 
conqueror. 

Permit  me,  therefore,  to  say  to  you,  as  the 
sympathizing  Saviour  did  to  his  mournful  dis- 
ciples :  '  let  not  your  heart  be  troubled:  in 
your  Father's  house  are  many  mansions.  Jesus 
is  gone  to  prepare  a  place  for  you,  and  will 
come  again,  and  receive  you  unto  himself;  that 
where  he  is,  you  may  be  also' — The  ransomed 
of  the  Lord  '  shall  return,  and  come  to  Zion 
with  songs,  and  everlasting  joy  upon  their 
heads  :  they  shall  obtain  joy  and  gladness,  and 
sorrow  and  sighing  shall  flee  away.'  In  the 
present  world,  which  is  fitly  compared  to  a 
waste  howling  wilderness,  where  are  prick- 
ing briars  and  grieving  thorns  :  the  christian 
must  expect  to  meet  with  many  obstruc- 
tions ;  with  much  to  perplex  his  mind,  to  ex- 

Y 


248  THE  REFUGE. 

cite  discouragement,  and  to  impede  his  jour- 
ney. But,  ere  long,  he  will  pass  the  waters  of 
Jordan,  and  reach  the  desired  haven,  where 
he  shall  peacefully  enjoy  the  object  of  his 
hope,  without  interruption  and  without  sa- 
tiety. 

The  children  of  God,  during  their  pilgrim- 
age on  earth,  bear  no  marks  by  which  men  of 
the   world  recognize    their   heavenly  birth,  or 
learn  to    estimate  their   high  privileges.     '  A 
good  man  is  subject,  like  other  mortals,  to  all 
the  influences  of  natural  evil  ;  his  harvest  is  not 
spared  by  the   tempest,  nor   his   cattle   by  the 
murrian  ;  his  house  flames  like  others  in  a  con- 
flagration ;  nor  have  his  ships  any  peculiar  pow- 
er of  resisting  hurricanes :  his  mind,  however 
elevated,  inhabits  a  body  subject  to  innumerable 
casualties,  of  which  he  must  always  share  the 
dangers   and   the    pains ;    he   bears    about   him 
the    seeds  of  disease,  and   may  linger  away  a 
great  part  of  his  life  under  the  tortures  of  the 
gout  or  stone  ;  at  one  time  groaning  with  insuf- 
ferable anguish,  at  another  dissolved  in  listless- 
ness  and  languor. 


THE  REFUGE.  249 

Afflictions  and  poverty,  persecution,  fines, 
imprisonment,  and  death,  are  not  viewed  by  the 
giddy  and  the  gay,  the  wise  and  the  prudent, 
as  indications  of  sonship  ;  but  as  tokens  of  ex- 
treme depravity  and  enormous  guilt :  as  expres- 
sions of  divine  vengeance  rather  than  of  mercy  : 
as  the  frowns  of  an  incensed  judge,  not  as  the 
salutary  chastisements  of  a  loving  father.     But 

^me,  or  all  of  these,  the  children  of  God 
^^perience  :  yea,  says  an  apostle,  and  all  that 
will  live  godly  in  Christ  Jesus,  shall  suffer  per- 
secution '  In  the  world,'  said  the  despised 
Saviour,  '  ye  shall  have  tribulation— for  if  ye 
were  of  the  world,  the  world  would  love  its 
own :  but  because  ye  are  not  of  the  v/orld,  but 
I  have  chosen  you  out  of  the  world,  therefore 
the  world  hateth  you.' 

It  is  usually  our  similitude  to  others,  says  an 
excellent  prelate,  that  makes  them  think  and 
speak  well  of  us  :  whosoever  commends  another, 
commends  something  that  he  supposeth  at  least 
he  hath  in  himself ;  and  this  is  the  reason  of 
that  wo  of  our  Saviour — '  wo  to  you  when  all 


250  THE    REFUGE. 

men  shall  speak  well  of  you.'  When  wicked 
men  speak  well  of  us,  it  is  a  sign  that  we  are 
too  much  like  them.  Even  a  heathen  could 
say,  when  .  highly  applauded  by  the  vulgar, 
*-  What  evil  have  I  done,  that  these  men  praise 


The   disciples  of  Christ  are  an   afflicted  and 
poor  people  :   in  general,  literally  poor ;  and  on 
this   account,  frequently  viewed  by  the   world 
as   mean    and    contemptible.      Their    heavenly 
Father  is  pleased,  for  the  best  reasons,  to  with- 
hold from  them  many  things  that  glitter  in  the 
eye  of  sense  ;    that  are  sure   to   attract  notice, 
and   which  generally   secure    to    the   owner,  of 
whatever  character,  vmqualified  tokens  of  adu- 
lation   and    respect.     But   the   christian    is   not 
without  his  consolations.     Exclusion  from  tran- 
sitory good   is  abundantly  recompensed   by  the 
contemplation    of  objects    that    dignify    while 
they  delight ;  that  irradiate  the  mind  and  exhi- 
larate the  heart  ;  that  raise  the  affections  above 
terrestrial    scenes,    and    enable   the    soul,    not 
merely  to  anticipate,  but  to  realize  something 


THE  RETUGE.  251 

of  the  felicities  of  glory.  Considerations  these 
of  immense  worth, — '  compared  to  which  all 
other  is  to  man,  condemned,  as  he  is,  shortly  to 
die,  but  puerile  amusement,  a  house  of  cards, 
a  bubble  blown  up  into  the  air,  and  displaying 
deceitful  colours  in  a  momentary  sunshine.' 

What  strong  encouragement,  therefore,  what 
sublime  pleasure  must  it  afford  the  weary  pil- 
grim, labouring  under  the  infirmities  of  decay- 
ing nature,  to  reflect  that  the  period  is  fast 
approaching  when  the  soul,  released  from  the 
bondage  of  corruption,  shall  be  completely 
sanctified ;  all  its  faculties  enlarged ;  all  its 
powers  invigorated ;  when  every  perplexing 
doubt,  every  anxious  fear,  every  distracting 
care,  shall  be  banished  for  ever  ;  when  nothing 
shall  divide  his  heart,  or  interrupt  his  worship; 
but,  having  entered  into  rest,  he  shall  joyfully 
unite  in  singing  with  all  the  ransomed  of  the 
Lord,  *  Unto  him  that  loved  us,  and  washed  ' 
us  from  our  sins  in  his  own  blood,  and  hath 
made  us  kings  and  priests  unto  God  and  his 
Father :  to  him  be  glory  and  dominion  for  ever 
and  ever.     Amen.' 

y  2 


252  THE    REFUGE. 

But,  though  the  saints  of  the  Most  High  be 
now  despised  and  rejected ;  though  they  be 
accounted  by  the  wicked  as  the  refuse  and 
olTscouring  of  all  things,  and  their  end  to  be 
without  honour,  this  will  not  always  be  the  case. 
No;  when  put  into  possession  of  the  new  Jeru- 
salem, it  may  be  said  with  an  emphasis,  they 
shall  no  more  be  termed  forsaken — for  God, 
their  everlasting  Father,  will  dwell  with  them^ 
and  they  shall  be  his  people.  He  will  wipe 
away  all  tears  from  their  eyes.  There  shall 
be  no  more  sorrow,  neither  shall  there  be  any 
more  pain,  for  the  former  things  are  passed 
away.  Then  shall  they  review  with  grateful 
hearts,  all  the  way  in  which  the  Lord  led  them 
in  the  wilderness  ;  the  way  in  which  they  were 
frequently  discouraged  ;  in  which  they  had  ene- 
mies powerful  and  numerous  to  encounter,  and 
concerning  whom  it  shall  be  sung  with  triumph, 
^  We  are  more  than  conquerors  through  him  that 
loved  us.' 

We  are,  it  is  true,  in  the  present  state,  ab^ 
sent  from  the  Lord ;  we  walk  by  faith,  not  by 
sight,     '  God    hath  put  a  distance  between  the 


THK    REFUGE.  253 

promise  and  the  performance,  so  that  it  may  be 
said,  in  a  comparative  view,  that  the  present 
life  is  rather  a  life  of  hope  than  of  enjoyment ; 
and  that  the  good  things  he  gives  relate  more 
to  the  future  than  the  present.'  But  in  the 
realms  of  glory  and  of  blessedness,  the  saints 
will  see  face  to  face,  and  know  even  as  also 
they  are  known.  The  glories  of  the  celestial 
city  are  viewed  through  a  glass  darkly  ;  but  in 
the  full  fruition  of  God,  their  eyes  shall  see 
the  King  in  all  his  beauty.  They  shall  exult 
in  the  full  display  of  his  infinite  perfections, 
and  stand  astonished  at  the  breadth  and  length, 
the  depth  and  height,  of  the  love  of  Christ  ; 
while  they  joyfully  experience  the  accomplish- 
ment of  his  own  prayer,  '  Father,  I  will  that 
they  also,  whom  thou  hast  given  me,  be  with 
me  where  I  am  ;  that  they  may  behold  my  glory, 
which  thou  hast  given  me.' 


m. 


The  felicity  of  the  saints  on  earth  is  fre- 
ently  interrupted,  and  always  imperfect, — 
ut  in  the  heavenly  world  .it  will  be  perpetual, 
vigorous,  and  complete.  For  could  their  happy 
souls  look  forward   to    a  moment   that    should 


254  THE  REFUGE. 

terminate  their  bliss,  the  prospect  would  strike 
a  damp  on  every  enjoyment — it  would  fill 
them  with  horrour.  But  a  thought  like  this  can 
never  enter  the  mansions  where  perfection 
reigns  and  glory  triumphs.  Their  happiness 
will  be  unspeakable,  immutable,  and  eternal. 
They  will  be  subjects  of  an  everlasting  kingdom. 
Their  inheritance  will  be  incorruptible.  They 
will  be  '  ever  with  the  Lord,  in  whose  presence 
there  is  fulness  of  joy,  and  at  whose  right  hand 
there  are  pleasures  for  evermore.' 

Such  are  the  prospects  and  such  the  pleasures 
exhibited  by  the  scriptures  to  invigorate  faith 
and  inspire  hope  with  confidence.  '  For  what 
is  death  to  that  mind  which  considers  eternity 
as  the  career  of  its  existence  ?  What  are  the 
frowns  of  fortune  to  him  who  claims  an  eternal 
world  as  his  inheritance  ?  What  is  the  loss  of 
friends  to  that  heart  which  feels,  with  more 
than  natural  conviction,  that  it  shall  quickly 
rejoin  them  in  a  more  tender,  intimate,  and 
permanent  intercourse  than  any  of  which  the 
present  life  is  susceptible  ?  What  are  the  fluc- 
tuations and  vicissitudes   of  external  things  to 


|HE    REF^ 

a  mind  which  strongly  and  uniformly  antici- 
pates a  state  of  endless  and  immutable  felicity  ? 
What  are  mortifications,  disappointments,  and 
insults,  to  a  spirit  which  is  conscious  of  being 
the  original  offspring  and  adopted  child  of 
God ;  which  knows  that  its  omnipotent  Father 
will,  in  proper  time,  effectually  assert  the  dig- 
nity and  privileges  of  its  nature  ?  In  a  word, 
as  earth  is  but  a  speck  of  creation,  as  time  is 
not  an  instant  in  proportion  to  eternity,  such 
are  the  hopes  and  prospects  of  the  christian  in 
comparison  of  every  sublunary  misfortune  or 
difficulty.  It  is,  therefore,  in  his  judgment  the 
eternal  wonder  of  angels,  and  indelible  oppro- 
brium of  man,  that  a  religion  so  v/orthy  of  God, 
so  suitable  to  the  frame  and  circumstances  of 
our  nature,  so  consonant  to  all  the  dictates  of 
reason,  so  friendly  to  the  dignity  and  im- 
provement of  intelligent  beings,  pregnant  with 
genuine  comfort  and  delight,  should  be  rejected 
and  despised.' 

That  there  remaineth  a  rest  to  the  people  of 
God,  the  christian  has  no  doubt.  O  happy  state ! 
Surely  the  hope  of  enjoying  it  must  administer 


h 


256  THE  REFUGE, 

Strong  consolation.  What  are  the  momentary 
trials  of  the  present  life,  when  compared  to  an 
eternity  of  blessedness  ?  they  are  nothing — they 
are  lost  in  the  comparison.  A  sight  of  danger 
and  of  difficulties ;  of  enemies,  numerous  and 
powerful,  will,  it  is  true,  sometimes  discourage, 
and  cause  even  the  most  valiant  to  halt :  but 
how  animating  to  recollect  that  we  maintain 
the  spiritual  conflict  in  the  strength  of  Omni- 
potence— ^that  the  captain  of  our  salvation  has 
himself  fought  and  conquered — that  he  is  en- 
tered into  his  glory,  and  has  taken  possession 
of  the  crown  !  He  inhabits  the  praises  of  eter- 
nity— ^he  is  supremely  blessed.  But  while  su- 
premely blessed — while  encircled  with  the 
grateful  songs  of  Seraphim  and  of  Saints,  is 
he  an  unconcerned  spectator  of  our  conflicts? 
No  :  to  them  that  have  no  might  he  increaseth 
strength.  He  proclaims  aloud  to  the  christian 
warriour;  'Be  thou  faithful  unto  death,  and  I 
will  give  thee  a  crown  of  life — He  that  over- 
cometh  shall  not  be  hurt  of  the  second  death — 
He  shall  be  clothed  in  white  raiment — ^I  will 
make  him  a  pillar  in  the  temple  of  my  God,  and 
ho  shall  go  no  more  out — He  shall  sit  v/ith  mc 


THE  REFUGE.  257 

Iti  my  throne,  even  as  I  also  overcame,  and  am 
sat  down  with  my  Father  in  his  throne.' 

I  have  only  to  add,  Lavinia,  that  this  is  a 
contest  in  which  vigilance  must  not  relax  ;  in 
which  no  truce  can  be  admitted ;  no  proposals 
for  capitulation  accepted  ;  no  league  of  amity 
concluded.  Nothing  short  of  perpetual  resist- 
ance can  ensure  tranquillity  :  nor  must  the  brave 
assailant  hope  for  conquest  till  he  fall  in  the 
combat.  Pray,  therefore,  that  you  may  '  nei- 
ther faint  nor  be  weary,  but  prevail  unto  victory. 
For  thoug?!  the  conflict  may  be  sharp  and  long, 
yet  the  sweetness  of  the  reward  will  abundantly 
^B  recompense  the  trouble  of  resistance  ;  and  the 
joy  of  the  triumph,  the  toils  of  the  war.' 

I  am  yours,  &c. 


FINIS. 


r- 


